The Oracles of Prodigy
by Shire.Conspire
Summary: Fifth year @ Hogwarts, Voldemort's risen, the usual. But for Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco Malfoy, there are bigger problems. Crazed love spells, unusual encounters, an age-old evil and an adventure that brings arch-enemies together. Now an AU.
1. The Beginning of the End

Chapter One The Beginning of the End  
  
An old man, bent with many years of age and responsibility, was hunched over his desk in the dead of night. He seemed to be reading letter. His eyes darted around the page, taking in every word that it revealed. The blue behind his half-moon spectacles showed neither anger nor fear; but determination. He nodded once to himself and set the parchment down. A phoenix swooped down upon him, resting gently on his shoulder. The man spoke.  
  
"I never thought the day would come when we would have to resort to the Oracles, Fawkes."  
  
*****  
  
At that very same moment, in a far off land, a tower beaten by time stood alone in the darkness. Deep within its walls a girl no older than fifteen, sat chained to the wall. The manacles that held her ankles and wrists shone with a very faint green light. Her long, hazel hair shrouded her face and her tattered clothes hung to her limp body. She looked up from the molding floor beneath her and stared at the opposite wall. Suddenly, her eyes clouded over in shadow and she smiled weakly to herself.  
  
"Harry Potter...we shall meet at last..."  
  
*****  
  
Harry felt the spell whiz past him, and saw as it smashed the wing of a statue shaped like an angel. His injured leg quivered violently under him as he kept on running, trying endlessly to reach Cedric and the Cup before Voldemort reached him. Soon, both figures loomed out of the darkness only a few feet from him. He dove for them, as the Dark Lord's voice rang through the cold night air.  
  
"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!"  
  
Harry had just clenched his hand onto Cedric's lifeless wrist, but the Triwizard Cup was too far for him to reach. He whipped out his wand hand and performed the Summoning Spell right as Voldemort's footsteps grew closer. The Cup was coming to him, Voldemort raised his wand; the handle was in Harry's hand, the Dark Lord gave a pitiless laugh. Harry closed his fingers over the smooth handle at the same time Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry.  
  
"Goodbye, Harry Potter." He performed the unblockable Avada Kedavra, and Harry felt his life slip away into the darkness...  
  
Harry Potter woke with a start. He blinked rapidly as the sun's brilliant rays stung his eyes. When he had readjusted his glasses and gotten used to the light, Harry looked around himself, breathing heavily. He was in his Uncle Vernon's house, on number four Privet Drive. He had dozed off on his desk in his room from the night before, his unfinished Charms homework spread out before him.  
  
Harry hated having to dream about last year's events, for it brought a chill up his spine and a shiver through his body. Last school year the Dark Lord, Voldemort, had returned to full power; Harry himself had witnessed his horrible reawakening. Harry had dreamed, since that terrifying night, what would have happened if he hadn't returned to Hogwarts in time; if Voldemort did reach him before he could escape.  
  
Harry had returned to Privet Drive in low spirits, his head hung low and his mind reeling. The Dursleys must have noticed, because they seemed to be giving him some peace for once in his life. For this, Harry was truly grateful. But though life on Privet Drive was reaching an all time high, Harry couldn't help but wish he was safe with his best friend, Ron, at his house. Mrs. Weasley would have gladly taken him in, but Dumbledore thought it better for him to return home first; and Dumbledore always had his reasons.  
  
Harry got up from his seat and walked over to his bed. On his way, he passed by his window, and, though he tried to fight it, he couldn't help but look at the window. The shocking green eyes behind his round glasses scanned the street frantically, even though Harry knew that You-Know-Who couldn't be anywhere close by.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Harry continued his journey to his bed and plopped down on the covers. Before he fell asleep again he punched his pillow, angry with himself for feeling so scared and painfully helpless.  
  
*****  
  
She laughed endlessly, watching nothing but the wall before her. She was no longer shackled to the wall, but was curled up in the middle of the damp floor.  
  
"He's coming for you Harry," she sang into the stillness. "He'll find you soon enough." And then she sat up so abruptly that she almost knocked herself over.  
  
"Dumbledore," she said in a voice poised with venom. "Dumbledore, you call..."  
  
*****  
  
Harry awoke, once again, to bright light blinding him. But this time it wasn't from the sun. As he lifted his eyelids he could see, very faintly, the sun setting slowly over the horizon. The light that was blazing through his glasses was coming from inside his room!  
  
A slit had appeared in the air before him, right over the foot of his bed. Realizing what he was seeing, Harry jumped up from his position and pushed himself against the head of his bed, trying frantically, to get away. The first thought that entered his mind was that this could be a trap set my Voldemort; but as he looked closer, he wondered how on earth it could be. It was so beautiful. The light was warm and welcoming; it felt safe and free upon his skin. Harry inched towards it, and as he did the slit grew wider. And then he saw something that made his stomach turn.  
  
There was a face forming through the white of the light. It was a girl's face, her eyes wide and wondering, and her hair tangled and wild. Harry screamed and backed away once more, fear mounting higher and higher in his heart.  
  
"Harry Potter..." The girl was calling to him, coaxing him nearer. But her tone wasn't pleasant, it sounded hungry, evil.  
  
Harry yelled louder as a ghostly hand stretched forth from the rays towards him. He looked around him, trying to find something to ward off this, this...creature. He looked past it and saw his wand lying on his desk. It was too far to reach for. He was trapped.  
  
The hand was at his face now, and suddenly Harry's lightening bolt scar erupted with immense heat. It wasn't as painful like when he was near You-Know-Who, but it sizzled on his forehead and it was a sensation that Harry disliked very much.  
  
"What's going on up there?" Uncle Vernon called. Harry tried to call to him, wishing that somebody, anybody would be in the room with him; he didn't want to be alone.  
  
His uncle's footsteps boomed louder as he came up the stairs. Harry cried louder. The girl smiled crazily.  
  
"What are you doing in there boy?"  
  
BAM! The door came flying open, and Harry's uncle stood there, filling up the entire door frame. Harry was about to warn him about the girl, but there was no need to. She was gone.  
  
As soon as Uncle Vernon had come in she vanished abruptly, leaving no trace that she had ever even been there.  
  
"Why are you yelling in here, boy? What's wrong with you? You'll attract the neighbors!" 'So much for peace and quiet', Harry thought to himself. He brought his hand to his scar gingerly, feeling that it was still extremely warm under his fingers.  
  
"Nothing. I...I just had a bad dream, that's all." His voice sounded unsure unto himself.  
  
"Oh," Uncle Vernon answered. He left the room without another word, not even asking what had happened or if Harry was alright, but Harry didn't mind. He was glad he hadn't questioned him. He did not feel like talking right then and there.  
  
Shaking all over, Harry got up from his bed and opened the window, letting the cool, fresh air sweep over him. That had to be the strangest thing that ever happened to him. What was it, anyway? Or whom?  
  
Not taking any chances with this, Harry decided to write to Dumbledore, telling him everything. It still seemed so unreal to Harry, it happened out of nowhere. But it could be a trap, so he would send him a letter right when Hedwig returned from her nightly flight.  
  
Not risking lingering alone any longer, Harry left his room and went downstairs to eat something. He entered the kitchen, only to be swamped with demands and insults by all three Dursleys. Their temporary silence had ended, and life at Privet Drive resumed as usual.  
  
Harry didn't mind at all. The continuous chatter helped block out the worry that was weighing heavily in his heart.  
  
*****  
  
"Crystal! What are you doing?!" Leo cried, as his sister sat in the middle of the floor, her body radiating light. She was looking into space, stretching out her hand to an invisible person. Leo knew instantly that this was a spell. A spell, nonetheless, Crystal was forbidden to ever do again.  
  
"Crystal stop!" He shoved her aggressivly and the light disappeared into her skin. Her darkened eyes returned to their eerie dark blue, and she shot him a glance of annoyance from the floor.  
  
"What do you want, little brother?" she asked him.  
  
"Crystal, stop this. Who were you contacting any way? It better have not been a human." Crystal looked to the ground. "I can't believe you! A human! What if Dumbledore finds out?"  
  
"He will," Crystal replied, getting up from where she lay. "I went to the boy, Harry Potter."  
  
Leo looked at her in shock.  
  
"No, please say that's not true?" he pleaded. She turned her back to him, walking to the wall. "Oh no, it's true." He buried his head in his hands. "Why didn't you just learn to fight it?" Leo asked himself, looking sadly at his sister. "Why couldn't you just fight, then you would be like this."  
  
*****  
  
"Hedwig!" Harry called through the closed window. He could see his snow white owl soar closer and closer to him. Though she was still a long ways away, Harry opened the window, creating a clear path for her. But when she was only but a few yards away, a small feathery cannonball came pelting from the side and knocked Hedwig clear out of the sky.  
  
The minute owl continued its breakneck course, averting its direction to Harry. He jumped out of the way just in time as the owl zoomed into his room and crashed painfully into the door opposite the window. Harry hurried over to peel the owl, which he recognized as Pig, off the door. He grimaced as he rushed over to the bed and set Pig down on the covers. The Dursleys had set him to work for hours and his body was still sore from it all.  
  
As Pig lay there recovering from his impact, Harry noticed with a smile that he was indeed holding a letter. He unclenched it from Pig's beak and began to rip open the seal, when Hedwig came gliding in angrily. Her feathers sticking out in all different directions, she settled onto her perch and dropped her letter onto the desk. Harry stroked her gently for awhile, straightening her feathers. After she hooted gratefully and began to gulp down water, Harry unfolded Ron's letter.  
  
Harry, How are you doing? I hope your fine... Mom wanted to know if you would like to come over for the rest of the summer. She asked Dumbledore if it was okay yet and he said to go on ahead. Hermione is coming over too. If the Muggles let you go, then meet us at the corner of your street tomorrow. I don't know why we can't get you through Floo Powder, but Dumbledore says that it's safer. Personally I can't see how but if it's Dumbledore, you can't argue with him. Send Pig back with your answer fast. Sorry if he's a little too excited, he hasn't gone out much lately. Hope you can come-  
  
Ron  
  
P.S. Fred and George opened their own joke shop. I don't know where they got the money, but it's nice to laugh nowadays.  
Harry bolted from his room and sprinted quickly down the stairs. He rounded the railing and started running through the hall, but skidded to a stop. Uncle Vernon stood in front of him, but to Harry's utter bewilderment, he didn't look neither angry nor annoyed.  
  
"Uncle Vernon," Harry started quickly. "Can I go to my friend Ron's house?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Ron. They came here last year, through the fireplace..." Harry stopped. He knew he had said the wrong words.  
  
Triggering the memory would surely restrict him from ever going to Ron's. Harry partly wanted to go so he could have that sense of safety that he always felt at the Weasley's; but knowing Uncle Vernon, he would never let him go now.  
  
"Oh, right. That lot. Well, now that you mention it-" Harry braced himself for the disappointment. "-you can go to these people's house."  
  
"What?" Harry didn't understand; why was he being so nice?  
  
"I said you can go. Do whatever you need to do before they come and don't bother to warn us when the come, just go." He turned his back to him once more, but stopped before either of them could move. "I hope you have a good time." And then he walked away, leaving Harry opened mouthed in the hallway, surprise claiming his every feature. 


	2. Through Ways of Intervening

Chapter Two ~ Through Ways of Intervening  
  
As Harry made his way back to his room he couldn't shake off the strange feeling about what Uncle Vernon had said. He frowned a little, suggesting that he probably should have given the Dursleys credit for trying to be nice to him. He walked into his room and remembered that Hedwig had brought a letter too. He picked it up from his desk and noticed Hermione's tidy handwriting before opening the letter and reading it.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I do hope you are fine. I have told my parents everything and they send you their best wishes. Are you going to Ron's house tomorrow? I am, and I hope to see you soon. Are you sending Professor Dumbledore regular owls? I most certainly hope so! I wouldn't be able to dream why you would do otherwise!  
  
Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow. Keep your head high Harry!  
  
Love from,  
  
Hermione  
  
Harry grinned as he finished the letter. Hermione...of course she would be the one to suggest a teacher. But Harry took her words to action and began to write a letter to Dumbledore, explaining the strange event that had happened only hours ago.  
  
Dear Prof. Dumbledore,  
  
It's me, Harry. I just thought I'd tell you that I'm doing fine. The Dursleys have been treating me very nicely, which is truly surprising. Also, something very odd happened today in my room. A slit of light appeared over my bed and this girl's face was inside of it. She reached out to me and my scar burned, but it wasn't really painful. It just sort of sizzled. It was really odd and I only wanted to tell you so just in case. Otherwise I'm fine, and I'm going to the Weasley's house for the rest of the vacation, as you already know. Please write back soon-  
  
Harry  
  
Harry signed the letter and attached it to Hedwig's leg. Then he made a similar letter to his godfather, Sirius Black, so that he wouldn't worry either. He also gave this to Hedwig.  
  
"Go to Dumbledore first, okay?" he asked her. She nipped his finger softly in response and flew off again. She had given him the reaction that she was tired, but Harry begged her to go and she obliged.  
  
After Hedwig flew out of sight, Harry scribbled a quick note to Ron telling him that he could go. Once he handed it to Pig, the tiny owl sprang up into the air and jetted out through the window. Shaking his head amusingly, Harry began to pack his things into his trunk, wanting to make an early start for tomorrow.  
  
But with every item he tossed in to it, they reminded him of last year. Against his will, Harry looked over his shoulder as he picked up his wand. Of course, the Dark Lord was no where to be seen, but Harry didn't want to underestimate him for he knew what he was capable of. Then, as he brought the lid of his trunk down and clicked the lock close, Harry was overcome with an odd feeling. A feeling he knew that was coming from him. It was anger. Anger that was targeted to Voldemort. Harry hated him for coming back to power, for threatening all magical people, all muggle people and for making himself act so scared.  
  
Harry plopped down into his desk chair and stared though the window.  
  
"If only I knew where he would strike again. To know what he is planning to do next. Then maybe we could stop him before he got too far." And as Harry imagined himself taking swift revenge upon You-Know-Who, he couldn't help but glance over his shoulder.  
  
****  
  
"I do hope Harry is all right," Mrs. Weasley said as she bustled about the kitchen, preparing dinner.  
  
"Oh Molly, I'm sure he's fine. Arabella Figg is near him, isn't she? With that woman around, nothing bad could happen to Harry." Mr. Weasley took a sip of his tea as he reassured his wife.  
  
"Yes, but we all thought he would be safe with Dumbledore right in front of him, now didn't we? But You- Know-Who found a way to get him out from under his nose. I'm not saying that Dumbledore made a mistake, Arthur, but anything can happen!" The stove billowed smoke as Mrs. Weasley poured sauce all over its face.  
  
"Molly," Mr. Weasley said, taking her hand from the pot and restoring the kitchen with his wand. "Arabella is there and You-Know-Who doesn't know where Harry is; and now he'll be here with us, just like Albus planned. And I know we won't let anything harm him." He hugged his wife and left the kitchen. "I'm going to work now, and I come home tomorrow Harry will be here and you'll feel right again."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Mr. Weasley nodded once and left the room. Just as a small pop! sounded in the living room, Ron came down the stairs with a letter clutched in his fist.  
  
"He can go Mum," Ron said to his mother. Mrs. Weasley let a long sigh of relief. She drew her son into a tight hug and returned to her cooking.  
  
Ron left his mother in the kitchen and started running up the stairs to his room. He never noticed the walls around him sinking low into faint blue light. As he rounded the second landing however, the strangeness of what was happening attracted Ron's attention. He stopped on the third landing, looking around him in panic.  
  
"What is this?" he asked himself. He made towards a nearby wall, reaching out a hand to touch the rippling light. Then there was a tremendous flash, and Ron had to throw up his hands to shield his eyes from the brightness. Light was pouring onto him, casting everything in sight a ghostly white tinted with blue.  
  
Just then, Ginny came out of her room and noticed her brother cowering from the sides in the middle of the landing. He was looking all around himself, squinting at the walls. She followed his gaze to the wall, but saw nothing vaguely interesting.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked him, walking right up to his face.  
  
"How can you see in here? It's too bright," Ron answered. "The heat from this light is growing! Ginny, what's going on?"  
  
"I don't know Ron but you're starting to scare me," she told him. She looked back at the walls, wondering what Ron was seeing. But they were perfectly ordinary.  
  
"The light-" Ron tried to tell her, but his insides were burning, as if the light had entered him and was now eating his interior. He doubled over clutching his stomach, the pain growing with every breath he took.  
  
"Ron, Ron what are you doing?! Ron stop, your scaring me! Ron-!" He could hear his sister yelling at him, shaking him to stop. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn't tell her how much pain he was in. The burning sensation had reached an incredible climax, and he felt like passing out. He fell to his knees, gasping for air.  
  
Then, he was thrown violently to the floor by images that had been shoved into his mind. It felt like a blow to his head. He screwed his eyes closed-and in doing so was able to see a vision. A girl was sitting alone in a room. A room crumbling unto itself. She sat cross-legged, her back straight and her head held high. Behind her a pair of manacles glittered eerily. Though the stone room was crashing down around the girl, she sat completely still and never once did she flinch.  
  
As if Ron were there, the vision moved forward, closing on the girl's face. She had deep blue eyes, and long, wild hair. The smile that she wore made the blood in Ron's veins run cold. It wasn't a pleasant smile, but a hungry one, a dead one, an evil one.  
  
And then she was gone. Everything vanished instantly, but the scorching light still remained in and around him.  
  
"Make it stop!" Ron repeated over and over again. But instead of bowing to his wishes, the pain increased.  
  
"Ron, wake up," someone was calling to him, but Ron couldn't make out the voice. Soon, however, his body could not take the fire inside and he fell away into darkness.  
  
****  
  
Hermione Granger sat bundled up in a blanket on her couch in front of a roaring fire. She was reading a spellbook on useful hexes and curses that could help fight the Dark Arts. She was just about to read up on the Severing Curse when her mother called to her from upstairs.  
  
"Hermione dear, did you already pack for tomorrow?" Mrs. Granger questioned.  
  
"Yes Mom," she called back.  
  
"Very nice sweetie," Hermione heard her mother say, as she descended down the stairs. Mrs. Granger looked much like her daughter. She, too, possessed bushy brown hair, but hers was wound up in a bun, and she wore a black pinstriped suit covered in her dentist lab coat. "I'll be going to work in a few minutes, right when your father comes home from the day shift. Now, don't forget to ask your father about your school supplies."  
  
"Don't worry Mum, I won't," Hermione assured her, smiling. Mrs. Granger winked and retreated to the kitchen. Hermione wriggled out of her blanket and smoothed out her skirt. She got up and started up to her room, intending to return her book to her trunk in the hallway.  
  
When she reached her bedroom door she heard the front door open and her father's voice echoing up the stairs. Hermione set her book on top of her trunk and rushed down to her father. He was already kissing his wife goodbye beside the door.  
  
"Well, I'm off," Mrs. Granger said.  
  
"Bye Mom. I won't see you till next summer. I'll be gone before you come home tomorrow." Hermione hugged her mother tightly.  
  
"I'll miss you." And with that, she waved her last farewell and drove away to work. Father and daughter watched as her car disappeared down the street before closing the door and heading to the living room.  
  
"I'm going to re-check my stuff Dad, just to make sure I haven't forgotten anything," Hermione informed him.  
  
"Are you getting your new supplies with the Weasleys?" her father asked.  
  
"Yes Dad. They're taking Harry and I with them."  
  
"Okay then dear. If you need me I'll be in the living room." He winked. Hermione could tell her Father was always so proud of her, and she was glad that she was able to do that. She smiled at her father and made her way up the steps again; but something happened.  
  
Hermione had set one foot onto the stairway when she fell to the ground. She hadn't seen it, but a beam of light had suddenly shot out of nowhere and cut right through her chest. She was caught absolutely off guard. It was pain like she had never known before and everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Hermione could feel herself fall slowly to the ground; and on her way down a series of endless emotions flushed through her. She felt pain, sadness, joy, exhilaration, depression, excitement, fear and anxiety all at once. They were changing so fast in her that she never had time to register one emotion from the other. But they hurt so bad. The feelings were jetting around inside of her, raging a war against one another.  
  
As the battle continued inside of her, the action never ceasing, Hermione lay motionless on the floor; her arms and legs sprawled over the stairway. No matter how much the pain stabbed at her, she couldn't do anything about it. She wanted to scream, but her mouth was sealed close. She wanted to slam the ground with her fist, but her limbs lay nailed to the ground. All she could do was screw up her face and close her eyes as the emotions sizzled inward, toward her heart.  
  
And then her eyes snapped open as her chest erupted with light. It was glowing above her, and a scene played in fast forward before her. A girl, sitting. She was then shackled to the wall, crying out in agony. Then she was on the floor, not moving, not breathing; but eyes open, staring into space. And then her chest closed, and the beam vanished along with the pain. Hermione simply laid there, her heart beating fast, her breath coming in rapidly. And she stayed that way for an hour, until her father came by and dragged her to her room. But Hermione never moved the whole time. She just stayed still, wondering.  
  
****  
  
Harry stood alone on the corner of Privet Drive. It was early morning so the sun had not completely come over the horizon yet, and everything around him was set in a hazy glow. Hugging his cloak closer to himself, Harry looked down the street. He didn't know how the Weasleys were going to get him, but he hoped they were coming soon.  
  
Being out in a deserted street all alone didn't exactly sound safe to him, but that was what Ron had told him. He also wasn't sure that picking him up so early in the morning was wise, but Mrs. Weasley had sent another letter telling him to come to the corner before the sun rose.  
  
Without thinking Harry stole a glance over his shoulder. Nothing but a plain, quiet house stared back at him. He sighed and turned back to the street. Thinking that Ron and the Weasley's would take longer than he suspected, Harry moved Hedwig's empty cage off of his trunk and sat down in its place. His thoughts soon trailed away from the Weasley family to the incident that had happened just yesterday. Who was that girl and why did she come to him?  
  
Harry massaged his head. He already had too many worries, what with Voldemort roaming around, and he didn't need anymore. But what freaked him out the most was the look she gave him. Her smile was horrid, but her eyes told a different story. It was like they knew him, knew what was to happen to him, and Harry was sure they shone with pity and not hunger. Replaying the scene in his head, it almost seemed that her deep blue eyes and stone smile were two different parts, showing two different sides of one person; the dark side and the light side.  
  
"Your here earlier than I expected Harry," a calm voice said behind him. For a split second the blood in Harry's veins ran cold, his body stiffened and fear gripped his heart. Then in a flash, Harry had jumped off his trunk, plunged his hand into his cloak and extracted his wand. He swirled around and pointed it right at the heart of the person behind him. Opening his mouth, Harry shouted out the first spell that came to mind, "Avada Ke-"  
  
But he stopped short. In mid-sentence Harry looked up from his wand point and saw that there person standing there was none other than Mrs. Figg!  
  
"Mrs. Figg! I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I just," Harry tried to apologize quickly, but his words were jumbling together. He dropped his wand hand to his side guiltily. "I'm sorry I tried to...you know..."  
  
"Kill me?" Mrs. Figg finished with, to Harry's utter amazement, a smile on her face. "Don't worry Harry, it's quite alright. I wouldn't expect any less than that, what with your current situation. Speaking of which, that is why I am here." She sat down on the trunk at looked up at him.  
  
Harry simply stood there in shock, not only of what he had almost done, but because of Mrs. Figg. She looked...different. She seemed more composed, more confident, even younger. She spoke to Harry as an equal, and her smile was genuine. Apart from all this, she wore not a dress nor a jacket, but robes! Deep emerald robes that reminded Harry of his Head of House at Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Mrs. Figg, er-what are you doing here? And why are you dressed like that?" Harry asked as politely as he could.  
  
"I'm here upon Albus Dumbledore's request and my own will," she replied.  
  
"You know Professor Dumbledore? But how? He's a...a..." Harry stammered.  
  
"A wizard? Yes, I am aware. All witches and wizards know who he is." She smiled kindly at him.  
  
"What?" Harry sat down next to her, mouth open. "Are you saying that your a witch?" Mrs. Figg laughed heartily. Not in mockery, but in reply.  
  
"Yes Harry. I am a witch."  
  
"But all this time you never told me?"  
  
"I could never tell famous Harry Potter when he didn't know what he was!"  
  
"So you knew who I was all along? All those times I went to your house and you were right there in front of me? But why? Why didn't you help me from the Dursleys? You could have taken me in instead of me living with them!" Harry was outraged. A witch had taken care of him once every year for ten years and she had never given the slightest hint of who she was.  
  
"Harry," she said, her face stern and her voice serious. "There are reasons for me not being able to tell you who I was, but you cannot know of them now. Soon, I promise I will tell you. But for this moment I am here to watch over you until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley come to get you."  
  
Harry nodded, knowing from many times of talking with Dumbledore that things like this shouldn't be pressed. He looked down at his hands and saw his wand still clenched in his fingers. With a wave of guilt he returned his wand to his pocket.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said again, not looking at Mrs. Figg.  
  
"For what Harry?" she asked.  
  
"For trying to kill you. You just gave me a fright and I didn't have time to think straight." A thought struck him into panic. "Are you going to report me to the Ministry?"  
  
"Of course not. I fully understand your reasons for springing like that. I don't blame you for anything dear." Mrs. Figg then pulled her own wand and gave it a wave. A tray appeared in front of them holding two steaming mugs of hot cocoa.  
  
"Dumbledore always said that this has magic all its own." She handed Harry one mug and kept the other for herself. Harry took it gratefully and gulped it down. It wasn't too hot or too cold, just right.  
  
The two sat there in silence for a few minutes, the quiet not tense but comfortable. Then Harry heard a familiar sound and looked down the street. Coming around the corner was a small, purple car; and driving it was a kind-looking, red-haired man. It was Mr. Weasley.  
  
"They're here!" Harry got to his feet and raised his hand, calling Mr. Weasley towards him. Harry smiled as he nodded in his direction.  
  
"I'll be going now then Harry," Mrs. Figg said. Harry turned to her.  
  
"Thank you for waiting with me. I hope we can see each other next summer."  
  
"I think we'll be seeing one another much sooner than that." Her eyes twinkled, flashing Harry a reminder of Dumbledore. He smiled in return and bent down to pick up Hedwig's cage.  
"Mrs. Figg, did Dumbledore tell you that-" but as Harry straightened up he noticed that she was no where in sight.  
  
****  
  
"But I'm really not that tired!" Hermione had tried endlessly to explain as she was hurried up the stairs.  
  
"Don't give me any of that young lady. I need you to be in tip top shape so you can keep the boys in line!" Hermione laughed along with Mrs. Weasley. Knowing it was better not to argue; she sprinted upwards and entered Ron's room on the top floor.  
  
"I guess I'll just sit up here and wait for them," Hermione said to herself, but her body acted otherwise. She truly didn't have much sleep last night, and she couldn't help but lay her head on the pillow.  
  
Falling into the comfort of the bed, Hermione's eyes closed and she drifted off to a merciless dream.  
  
****  
  
She was in a tower. A tower that was dark and damp. Feeling frightened and alone, Hermione moved ahead of herself and found that three other figures were in this tower room with her. Two she knew by heart, one she knew by hurt. Harry and Ron were there but they didn't seem to notice Hermione. Instead, they were watching the third person. A person chained brutally to the wall. As Hermione neared them she could make out bruises and blood where metal met flesh on the battered wrists.  
  
"Harry, Ron. Where are we? Where did you come from and what happened to her? She's hurt!" Hermione asked, running to them. She stood right up to their face, but they paid no heed to her presence. They just continued to stare at the person on the wall...the girl on the wall.  
  
"Hello? Are you listening to me? What's wrong with the two of you?" Hermione followed their frozen gaze to the girl. It was the same gaunt face that appeared to Hermione when the light had burst through her.  
  
But the girl's head was bowed down low, and she wasn't moving at all; no rise and fall of the chest, no subtle sound of breathing.  
  
"Is she...she dea-" But Hermione never got the chance to finish her sentence. In a flash, the girl snapped her head up and glared at them. Her dark eyes glowed sapphire and, then she locked her eyes with Ron's. Ron's own blue eyes widened in fear and he began backing away from the girl along with Harry.  
  
"Ron, Ron wait." But he didn't hear Hermione anymore than he expressed that he saw her.  
  
Then, giving no warning whatsoever, Ron released an earth-shattering cry and fell backward to the ground. He twitched once, and then lay still.  
  
"Are you okay Ron?" Hermione cried. For some reason, she remained rooted to the spot. She was worried, but she just stood, invisible, next to the girl; the girl who's eyes were still locked on the motionless Ron.  
  
Looking at Harry, Hermione wondered why he wasn't moving. Wouldn't he want to know what was wrong with his best friend? But she then noticed that he was struggling with himself, as though he was fighting to move but couldn't.  
  
"RON!" Harry yelled. Finally coming to her senses, Hermione ran to Ron's side. She knelt down beside him, to see what was wrong, but her knees fell onto something seeping out from under Ron. It was blood. Dark, horrible blood, continuing to flow from somewhere under Ron.  
  
"Ron! Ron wake up! Please wake up! Open your eyes; you have to get out of here. Harry...he's not moving! He won't move! I think he's- he's...dead."  
  
Her hands fell to her sides. Her body slumped over, and her brown eyes looked sadly into Ron's dead face. Then her mind couldn't take this sudden shock and Hermione began to cry. Crying high into the air, her tears falling...Ron's lifeless hand catching each one...  
  
"Hermione! Wake up!" Hermione's eyes fluttered open and it took her a few moments to focus on the face staring down at her.  
  
"Who-?" she tried to say, but she couldn't string her words together.  
  
"Hermione, it's me, Ron. Ronald Weasley, one of your best friends. Harry is here too."  
  
At this, Hermione's eyes snapped open and she could see clearly Ron's flaming red hair and freckles. His blue eyes stared back at her, showing life.  
  
"Your alive!" she cried, and jumped up and threw her arms around Ron's neck, hugging him vigorously. Thrown off by her sudden actions and her tightening hug, Ron tried desperately to pull her off.  
  
"Hermione," he gasped tugging weakly at her arms. "Hermione, your cutting off my air..."  
  
"Oh Ron! I can't believe your alive! I was just dreaming, but you were dead! You were dead and I thought that I would never see you again! It was horrible!"  
  
"Hermione!" Ron's face was turning bright red now. "Get...off!"  
  
"And there was so much blood and I didn't do anything to help you at all! I felt so guilty..."  
  
"Her...mione-get...off me..."  
  
"What? Why?" Hermione moved back so she could look at Ron's face. His eyes were crossing and he was turning a violent shade of maroon. "Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry." She let go quickly and Ron breathed in deeply. Hermione heard laughter behind her and spun around to see Harry doubling over with hysteria.  
  
"Harry! You're here and you're safe! I was worried that You-Know- Who might've...but I never really-oh but I'm so glad your alright!" Without thinking Hermione swept Harry up in a tight hug as well. Before he lost any more breath, Harry spoke into Hermione's hair.  
  
"Hermione wait, don't shock me!"  
  
"Oh, right." Hermione stepped back. "Sorry."  
  
"Yeah that's right," Ron whined from the floor where he fell over. "I'm the one who died in your dream and you half choke me to death but of course you leave Harry alone! I feel so special!"  
  
This is how it's supposed to be, Hermione thought, as all three laughed heartily, their joy ringing all through the house.  
  
****  
  
"They know. Three have seen, two have felt, and one waits..."  
  
Crystal lay sprawled on the tower floor. She was no longer wearing rags, but a beautiful, flowing snow white dress. Her hair was no longer a mass of wild tangles, but now sleek and shiny, spread all around her.  
  
"I think I've found some new friends," she said, her blue eyes shining madly.  
  
"Crystal! Crystal, come in here. Professor Dumbledore is here to meet us."  
  
Crystal jerked her head towards the open doorway where her little brother, Leo, stood waiting. He was wearing a pure white tunic, his own hair also clean and his green eyes full of concern for her, his sister. Wanting to make a good impression for her brother, Crystal sat up quickly and brushed herself off. Abandoning her dark stance she adopted a sisterly smile and strode over to him.  
  
"Shall we go meet him then?" she asked, taking her sibling by the arm. Leo looked shocked. His sister never acted this normal since her powers took over. Just don't question it, he told himself.  
  
"Right. Let's go." And the two walked through the door. I pretend to be fine now, Crystal thought to herself, grinning slightly. But once I gain Dumbledore's trust, I'll be able to transmit more clues to the children.  
  
They entered a fine, glittering room and a man stood with his back to them. He was facing the open window, staring into the darkness of night.  
  
"We are here, Professor," Leo said. The man turned to them, his half- moon spectacles propped before his twinkling blue eyes.  
  
"Then we shall begin," he said. Crystal smiled wider. Dumbledore and Leo walked together and started talking immediately. Crystal trailed behind. A thought formed in her mind.  
  
"When Dumbledore leaves," she said under her breath. "I'll let the boy feel it again. Let's see if he can handle the pain..."  
  
****  
  
"Hermione...Hermione you look different." Ron stared at her as all three friends descended down the stairs. Being caught up in the laughter and death hugs just a few minutes before, Ron never noticed how Hermione had changed over the summer.  
  
"Really? How so?" Hermione asked. She stepped in front of Harry and Ron and swirled around for them. Her hair was longer and shone golden brown and she had certainly grown since last year. She was taller and prettier.  
  
"You look like...like a girl," Ron said with all sincerity, his hand stroking his chin.  
  
"You already realized that last year before the Yule Ball, Ron," Harry told him, laughing.  
  
"I know dung brain!" Ron gave him a playful push. "It's just Hermione is so pretty now. I just saw it when we were walking and wanted to tell her, that's all." He continued down the stairs, as if what he said was absolutely normal. Harry and Hermione stared after him.  
  
"Er-thanks...Ron." Hermione really didn't know what to say.  
  
"Your welcome."  
  
"Wait a minute." Harry hurried to catch up to Ron, Hermione right behind him. "You tell Hermione that she's beautiful, and then walk away without another word?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry, Ron, and Hermione hit the landing and entered the kitchen.  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Because dinner is soon Harry!"  
  
"No, I mean act like it was nothing! She's gorgeous and you just brushed that away in a second!"  
  
Hermione blushed scarlet.  
  
"Well, if she doesn't watch it, one of us could fall for her!" Ron grinned once at Harry, then at Hermione and then left for the living room.  
  
"I know! Wouldn't that be a strange situation." Harry followed Ron, leaving Hermione to stand in the kitchen, mouth hanging open. She couldn't believe how casual they had been about talking about her in front of her!  
  
"Hermione, are you coming or do you like my kitchen too much?" Ron's ginger head appeared just inside the doorway, smiling.  
  
"Oh, right." Hermione walked up to him, feeling slightly embarrassed.  
  
"Don't feel embarrassed Hermione," Ron assured her, as if reading her mind. Hermione was looked up at him. He had grown much taller.  
  
"What?"  
  
"About the way me and Harry were talking about you? We're best friends, remember? We can talk about anything!" He swung his arm around her shoulders. "And we'll always be about best friends."  
  
"Your right Ron; and best friends tell each other everything, right?"  
  
"Right," Ron said, as the two walked through the door and into the backyard to follow the voices of Harry and Ginny.  
  
"So...what's this?" Hermione's voice grew panicky and she pointed down to Ron's side.  
  
"What-?" Confused, Ron looked down at his side and saw a dark stain on his shirt. "It actually hurts there." he lifted his shirt to look at it.  
  
"Ron!" Blood stained his hands where the slash in his skin met his hand.  
  
****  
  
"We won't strike, my Lord?" Wormtail asked fearfully.  
  
"No. I want dear little Harry Potter to live in fear of death for awhile, just like I did." Voldemort breathed in deeply. "Plus, I want to feel out this body of mine. You don't know how good if feels to perform my own acts of torture myself."  
  
"What about the dementors? The Death Eaters? What will they do until you are ready to rid of Dumbledore and Harry Potter?"  
  
Voldemort took another deep breath, staring out of the window.  
  
"Let them do what they please, but tell them not to harm anyone from Hogwarts. I need a special someone for that task."  
  
"Who, my Lord?" Wormtail recoiled as Voldemort turned from the window and faced him. An evil glint came over his serpent eyes.  
  
"Dumbledore had decided to take the aid of an ancient magic. A magic I could use to my very own benefit. We will wait for the time being, just until Dumbledore reveals where the magic is hidden." He pulled out his wand from within his robes. "But for now, I'm feeling antsy. Let's go visit some muggles, shall we?"  
  
****  
  
Harry and Ginny were setting up the table in the backyard again because Fred, George, Percy, Charlie and Bill were coming for dinner that night too. Harry could still tell Ginny sort of liked him, but was glad that they could stay friends for now.  
  
"Oh, sorry Harry," Ginny apologized as she bumped into him.  
  
"That's all right." Harry picked up the forks that he dropped.  
  
"Harry," Ginny started. "I need your help with something."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"It's about Ron. Something happened yesterday to him, and I don't know what it was. Our whole family has been really worried."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, setting down his last fork. Ginny took in a deep breath.  
  
"Well, something has been happening to him. Yesterday he was acting so strange. It looked as though he was afraid of the walls. He kept telling me that the light from them was too bright, but I didn't see anything!"  
  
Interested and intent on hearing everything, Harry moved closer to Ginny, so that they were almost shoulder to shoulder. Embarrassed and quite nervous, Ginny shifted away a few inches; being too close to him felt uncomfortable. Fortunately, Harry didn't notice.  
  
"But why? What was he seeing?"  
  
"I don't know," Ginny answered. "Then he fell to the floor, clutching his stomach. And after awhile he fainted." She collapsed into one of the chairs at the table. "I've been really worried about him, Harry. I mean, he is the only one of my brothers who seems to care about me! He even risked his life to save me from the Chamber of Secrets. Well, actually you did...Harry-" Ginny blushed almost as red as her hair and Harry coughed loudly.  
  
"Yeah, well...so, Ron saw light?" Harry confirmed, changing the subject.  
  
"Yes," Ginny replied. And then her face light up, remembering something. "Oh yeah, and he mentioned this girl in his mind. He said she had dark eyes and this wild hair. He also said that she looked sinister...evil." Ginny looked at Harry and saw his green eyes were slightly shocked behind his round glasses.  
  
"He saw her too?" Harry worded out loud. Ginny looked puzzled.  
  
"Too?" Harry stiffened. Harry didn't want to tell anybody about his encounter until he was certain it wasn't fatal or his imagination. He was just about to make an excuse when Hermione came running around the corner of the house. She was out of breath and looked thoroughly frightened.  
  
"Hermione?" Harry walked over to her. Her face was pale and she was panicking on the spot.  
  
"Harry, Ron's hurt!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"He has this cut on his side and it won't stop bleeding. He doesn't know where it came from but it's awfully deep and I wanted to heal it with this spell I read over the summer, but underage wizards aren't supposed to do magic outside of school and if I get the Weasley's into trouble I could really mess things up and-Harry?"  
  
Harry had left Hermione in mid-sentence to aid Ron. He was around the corner of the house, on his knees, gingerly touching the wound in his side. The blood was still flowing freely from it, and Ron winced with pain at every breath he took.  
  
"Ron! Ron, what happened here?" Harry fell down beside him. He, himself, tried to touch the wound, to inspect it, but once his fingers got an inch away the were seared with a burning sensation. He withdrew them quickly.  
  
"Harry," Ron gasped. "Don't let her see me..." Harry ignored him.  
  
"You have to get up and go inside with me. You can't stay out here any longer!" Harry began to pull him up by the arm.  
  
"Harry, no!" Ron stayed rooted to the spot, breathing hard. "I can't move! It hurts to much! You just can't let her see me!" And then Ron's eyes were pulled shut and Harry could tell something was going on in his mind. Harry made to run into the house, but Ron caught his arm once more.  
  
"Ron-"  
  
"Don't let Ginny see me like this." Harry stared at him.  
  
"Ron, let go. I think that is the least of your worries." He flinched as his friend gulped down air in great difficulty. "Ron, I have to get you mum! She needs to help you!"  
  
"No!" Ron coughed harshly. "First don't let Ginny see me."  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"Harry, please!"  
  
"Why?!" But Harry and Ron both ceased their chatter as Hermione and Ginny's worried voices came echoing from around the corner. Ron's grip on Harry tightened.  
  
"Harry, you have to trust me. Just stop her and I'll be fine. I'll heal."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Ginny's ginger hair started to appear from around the house.  
  
"Harry, I beg you, please!"  
  
Bounding forward, Harry strode to the corner and blocked Ginny's way.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Ginny, you can't see him." Ginny looked at him, confused. Harry looked at Hermione and nodded to her. She nodded in return and ran past him to Ron.  
  
"Harry, if Hermione can go then so can I," Ginny protested, and she tried to push Harry aside.  
  
"No!" Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and guided her back to the table.  
  
"Harry, this isn't funny! Let me go to my brother!" Even though Harry was fifteen and Ginny was fourteen, it didn't take much effort for her to pry his hands off and dash past him. Harry spun around fast and grabbed her arm.  
  
"Ginny, believe me, he can't let you see him! I don't know why but he says it will help him!"  
  
"Harry, you're mental! I need to help him!" She struggled to release herself. Harry searched his mind for a way to stop her.  
  
"Wait, I'm hurt!" Before he even finished his sentence Harry knew this was a stupid excuse.  
  
"No your not, now let go of me!" Ginny cried. She pulled out of Harry's grip and almost rounded the corner; but Harry sprang forward and grabbed both her arms behind her.  
  
"Ginny, please!"  
  
"Harry, let me go!"  
  
"This is what he wants Ginny," Harry pleaded.  
  
"I don't care, I want to see him! He's hurt and I can't just stand here and do nothing about it!"  
  
"But he can't heal with you there; this is for his own good!"  
  
"His own good? Harry, your acting really strange and I don't need that right now! Let go!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"But Ron wants-"  
  
"Do I look like I care what he wants? Besides, nothing you say or do can stop me!" She was almost free of his grip. Frantic, only one thing came to Harry's mind that could stop Ginny and help Ron. He screwed up his face. I can't believe I'm going to do this, he thought.  
  
Harry tugged forcefully on Ginny's arm. He pulled her close...and kissed her. Surprised and utterly bewildered, Ginny stood frozen in Harry's hands, staring at him. She quickly forgot all about Ron and what was hurting him. Harry kept his eyes shut, not being able to look Ginny in the face. From around the corner Harry could here a sigh of relief and Hermione calling to them that Ron was now fine.  
  
Hurriedly, Harry released Ginny and both stepped away from each other. Harry didn't know what to say, and Ginny looked to shocked to speak. There was a long moment's pause, as Harry and Ginny sorted out what had just happened. Ginny clasped her hands to her chest, embarrassed, and Harry bore his eyes into the ground. Hermione's voice rang out from around the house calling Harry to her. He didn't move for quite some time, but decided that he had to see if Ron was alright.  
  
"Sorry," Harry finally muttered to Ginny as he swept past her still body joined Ron and Hermione.  
  
****  
  
"You did what?!" Ron asked. Harry avoided his eyes, not saying anything. "Harry-"  
  
"I kissed her."  
  
Ron fell off his bed, his roaring laugh echoing in Harry's ears. Harry turned a bright red and looked out of the window. Hermione, who was pacing the room, turned away from Harry quickly. Her shoulders were quivering and she was making noises that sounded like sniffles.  
  
"Hermione," Harry asked, concerned. "Hermione, are you okay?"  
  
Harry turned her around and she burst into laughter in his face. For the first time, Harry saw Hermione lose all composure and fall to the ground as well, giggling and laughing just as hard as Ron. Frustrated, Harry dropped into Ron's desk chair and waited as his best friend's regained themselves again and stood from the floor.  
  
While he was waiting he gazed around Ron's room. The walls and bed were still a blazing orange. His books were still piled high on his desk and his wand was no where in sight. Finally, both friends picked themselves off the floor, trying hard to stay stern, but Hermione still possessed a smile and Ron kept breaking out in small fits of laughter.  
  
"I can't believe you kissed her, Harry!" Ron said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "It must have been a dream come true for her! I would have given anything to see her face right then!"  
  
"Yeah, well, she didn't look at all happy about it," Harry grumbled, folding his arms and leaning back in the chair. Ron raised his eyebrows at him.  
  
"Harry, you sound a bit disappointed." Ron plopped out to his bed. "Don't worry about it, she's probably dancing around her room and giggling her little heart out right now," Ron said, sounding wistful and throwing a pillow at Harry.  
  
"Oh shut up," Harry said, throwing it back.  
  
"Okay, okay. Let's get serious now," Hermione stated, pacing the room again. "Let's focus on the major problem here-what happened to you Ron?" Hermione regained her 'down-to-business' attitude and it got both boys to stop their playing around.  
  
"I don't know. It just happened," Ron said reluctantly. He really didn't want to relive what had happened a few moments ago.  
  
"Wait," Harry started. "Why did you want me to stop Ginny from seeing you in the first place? It was kind of a weird request."  
  
"Um-" Ron looked uneasy about something. The same look Harry did when he wasn't sure if he should tell his friends something.  
  
"Ron, you can tell us. No matter how far-fetched it may sound," Hermione assured.  
  
"Oh, that's not what I'm worried about, because what she told me wasn't far-fetched at all. It was true," Ron said off-handedly, not even thinking that he said anything strange.  
  
"Who?" Harry questioned. Ron looked up at him.  
  
"Okay," he began. "When Hermione pointed out my cut, I really didn't know where it came from or when. But then it hurt so bad and I fell to my knees in pain; but when Hermione left to go get you, Harry, something happened." Ron's voice faltered slightly, but he kept on. "There was this voice that was whispering in my ear. It was really scary. It was a girl's, and she said that if I let my little sister see me in such pain, something could happen to her. At first I thought, 'This must be my imagination!', but then the girl just kept talking to me. She wouldn't stop telling me that if Ginny saw me, something terrible would happen." Ron gulped down hard, telling the tale of the girl's voice in great detail as his own mind fell back to that exact moment...  
  
Ron was kneeling on the ground, his side burning with pain. Hermione had just left him to get Harry, but with her gone, Ron felt incredibly alone. His breath was coming in hard, and he wasn't sure how long he could stay conscious. The slash in his body seemed to reach farther down than it looked...like it touched his soul and was eating away at it.  
  
Ron remembered wanting someone, anyone, to be with him right then...and he had gotten his wish, but not in the way he wanted. The voice of an invisible stranger, cruel and eerily calm, whispered in his ear, sending a chill up his spine.  
  
"Don't let her see you," it said. Its tone was horrible, evil and crazy...insane. Ron's muscles tensed, sending more pain from his side to the rest of his body.  
  
"Who is that? Who are you?!" Ron cried, panic edging his persistent tone, for he could barely turn around and look for himself.  
  
"Don't let her see you..."  
  
"Leave me alone! Hermi-"  
  
"DON'T CALL FOR ANYONE!" the voice bellowed. Ron fell silent in fear, his hands balled into fists. But then the voice lost its anger and adopted a playful air.  
  
"If you let her see you, something terrible will happen to her...and you don't want anything bad to happen to her..." the voice taunted. Ron was completely scared now, and he wanted so much to make the voice go away, but he also wanted to know what it was talking about.  
  
"Her? Who, Hermione? Oh my god, is something bad going to happen to Hermione?"  
  
"No," the voice answered. It gave a laugh, a cold, merciless laugh. A laugh that sounded like a girl's. "No, someone else. Someone who you love very much...horror beyond horror will befall her if she sees you in such pain."  
  
"What?!" Ron racked his brain. What girl did he love so much? He didn't love anyone! Sure he liked someone, but love? Who? Who? And then her name echoed across his brain, as though she had said it herself: Ginny. His only sister. His only younger sibling; one whom he loved dearly. Something terrible would befall her? But what?  
  
"My sister?" Ron asked the bodiless voice. "What will happen to her if she sees me?" And then Ron gasped as a force hit him on his wound, causing pain to ripple throughout his body and numb him to stillness.  
  
"FOOL!" The voice shouted, expressing more than ever that it was female. "How dare you question me! I, I who know more than any other being on earth! I who can predict anything and everything! I, who can create predictions, twisting them so they become what I want them to be." Laughter again, laughter that could freeze the blood even of a dementor.  
  
"What will happen?" Ron asked again through clenched teeth.  
  
"Trust me boy, it will be painful upon her."  
  
"What will happen?!"  
  
"Ron! Ron, what happened here?" Harry cried as he whipped around the corner and to his side. Ron couldn't think straight, but somehow he knew the voice was telling the truth, and he had to warn Harry.  
  
"Harry, don't let her see me..." Ron gulped down the air, trying to stay awake.  
  
But Harry wasn't listening to him. He was busy trying to pry him off the ground. Ron remembered resisting him, pleading him to stop Ginny. Then her voice had come from around the corner. She couldn't see him, she couldn't!  
  
"You don't believe me, boy. How dare you doubt me. I guess the only way to make you believe...IS TO LET YOU SEE THE TERROR FOR YOURSELF!" That was when Ron's blue eyes were yanked shut, and a vision filled the darkness. Ginny...on the ground...eyes open in shock...so still...so cold...so dead....  
  
Her eyes were not like they truly were in real life; they were black. Full clouded over, like a night curtain in a window, shielding the empty house within. Then the scream filled his eyes; how, he did not know. But he could see it. The pain, the agony, the torture in her voice; Ginny's voice. Helpless..terrified...  
  
"Don't let Ginny see me like this!" Ron had begged.  
  
"Ron, let go! I think that is the least of your worries."  
  
"Harry, please!" And in hearing the pain in Ron's voice, Harry had crumbled under the pressure and stopped Ginny in her tracks. Hermione was with him now.  
  
"Oh, Ron..." Hermione had said, tears choking her voice.  
  
"Hermione, please don't cry. I'll be-"  
  
"Don't speak to her." Ron closed his mouth. The girl had returned, but it seemed that she was only heard by Ron, for Hermione made no notice of her. "You did right, boy. Now no harm will come to your precious sister...yet."  
  
"What-"  
  
"Quiet boy! Now wait. Wait for just a moment. When that moment passes, your slash will heal instantly and no pain will linger behind. In that moment, the disaster I created will not come, and you have saved someone you love for another day. In one moment. Wait...wait..."  
  
"Ron? Ron are you okay?" Hermione asked, for he knew that he was unnaturally silent.  
  
"Wait..."  
  
"Ron, Speak to me!"  
  
"NOW!"  
  
And then a sizzle, not painful, shrouded his entire body, and Ron could feel the slice in his skin mend. All the pain, all the hurt that had come with it vanished, and he was able to slowly open his eyes. Somehow, he had ended up on the ground, and looking down upon him was a gentle face.  
  
"Ron! Are you okay?" Hermione asked. Ron looked around him, searching for the voice.  
  
"Yeah," he said, yet not really being so. "Yeah, I'm okay." He pulled himself off the ground as Hermione called to Harry and Ginny that Ron was finally all right...  
  
Silence followed Ron's story. Hermione had rested herself on the camp bed at the foot of Ron's bed and Harry sat frozen at his desk.  
  
"That's it basically," Ron said. He looked at his two best friends. Finally, after a few minutes of quiet, Harry spoke up.  
  
"Before we talk about what happened to you, Ginny mentioned something about you that happened yesterday. You were seeing light?"  
  
"Oh," Ron started. He quickly explained about the light and the pain again. He also told them about the girl with the dark eyes and the wild hair. When he did so, Hermione and Harry both snapped to attention.  
  
"Who?" Hermione asked.  
  
"This girl. She looked really weird. I saw her, like in a vision kind of thing. She's the one who made all that-"  
  
"Pain," Harry and Hermione said together. The three looked at each other, frightened yet excited.  
  
"I've seen her too," Harry said. "And judging by the look on Hermione's face, she has as well. But what does that mean?"  
  
"What happened when she came to you guys?" Ron asked curiously. Harry looked to Hermione, wanting to hear her version first.  
  
"Well,' she stammered. "This may sound completely strange, but a beam of light shot through my chest and made it erupt with light! I saw the girl then. She was...dead. It really scared my father." She shivered and started pacing the room again. "I never really knew pain like that existed. It was terrible. I just couldn't stand it and I fell away. away from the world it seemed like," she continued.  
  
Harry glanced uneasily at Ron. Hermione sounded awkward. She usually didn't act this...dramatic.  
  
"Hermione?" Ron prodded.  
  
"It hurt so bad. And then she I saw her, so motionless. That wasn't the only time I saw her though! When you two woke me up I she was in my dream. She showed me Ron on the ground and Harry in distress. It was horrid! I-I never knew someone so cruel could do this! I know she's behind all this! Who is she? Who is she?!"  
  
"Hermione! Calm down!' Harry had gotten up and grasped Hermione by the shoulders. She looked at him in a puzzled way, and her eyes looked different to Harry; not their usually dignified and composed brown. Then she shook her head and they regained their normal stance.  
  
"Whoa. I don't know where that came from." Hermione shook her head again. "That was odd."  
  
"You okay?" Harry asked, trying to look her in the eye. Hermione nodded.  
  
"Yeah," she replied. "But your hurting my shoulders Harry."  
  
"Oh. I'm sorry." He let go immediately.  
  
"That's quite alright Harry. No big problem. So, what happened when she came to you?" Hermione stole Harry's seat at the desk, and Harry began to trace Hermione's steps of pacing the room. Ron simply gazed on.  
  
"I was in my room and this slit of light appeared in the air. She came through it, reaching for me. It really scared me, and then my scar burned. It didn't hurt like when Vol-, sorry. You-Know-Who is near, but more of a sizzling. She really didn't do anything, but her face was so...I don't know; sinister."  
  
"So," Ron said. "We've all seen her. What does that mean? What has it got to do with anything and why do we see her in the first place?"  
  
"I don't know." Harry rubbed his forehead. "But somehow I know this has nothing to do with You-Know-Who. I don't think he would be this nice to us."  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but closed it quickly and stared at a point outside the window. Ron and Harry both followed her gaze and saw a white owl pecking lightly on the glass. She held a letter tight in her beak.  
  
"Hedwig!" Harry cried. He hurried over to the window and pried it open. Hedwig glided into the room and dropped the letter in Ron's lap before resting herself on Hermione's shoulder. She folded her wings behind her back and looked at Harry. Harry never remembered ever seeing Hedwig so stern before. Sure, she always had a straight, dignified look, but it usually radiated relaxation and simple joy; but now she stared at him with opaque eyes that said that the letter she held brought important and serious news.  
  
"Harry, this letter is from Hogwarts," Ron said from the bed. Harry looked at him as Ron broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter.  
  
"Yeah, I wrote to Dumbledore about the girl right after I saw her. I just thought he ought to know about it," Harry informed them, as Ron began to skim the letter fast.  
  
"Good thinking Harry! If anyone knows who she is it'll be Prof. Dumbledore," Hermione said. "Ron, what does the letter say?"  
  
"Something weird," he replied. "Here, listen to this:  
  
Dear Harry, Have Ron and Hermione felt anything or seen anything like you have? If so, contact me immediately! I must know as soon as possible in order to make her stop; but if the girl comes back to any of you ever again, do not be frightened. She means you no harm. Do not fear, she is not connected with...  
  
("Sorry," Ron interrupted. "I just can't say the name. But he meant You-Know-Who." He continued with the letter.)  
  
I know that you have many questions about her, and I promise to answer them...but not now. This may frustrate you, but I ask you to be patient and trust me. This girl has a lot to do with you, Ron and Hermione; and the results may come as a sudden surprise but not life threatening. Everything will reveal itself in due course. Also, Harry, I want to make sure you are safe. Never leave the house unless Mr. or Mrs. Weasley is with you. I hope Hermione and Ron keep an eye out that you don't otherwise, but I am certain you are not taking the current situations lightly. I look forward to see the three of you on the Hogwarts Express on September 1st. Have a nice summer-  
  
Professor Albus Dumbledore  
  
"He's looking forward to seeing us on the Hogwarts Express?" Ron questioned, folding the letter back up. "But I've never seen a teacher on the train before, except for Lupin. What's he talking about?"  
  
"I don't know. What I'm more interested in is who that girl is. Dumbledore certainly knows her, but he doesn't seem to want to tell us. Tell us now, anyway." Harry looked at the ceiling, confused. Hermione stood up from her chair.  
  
"Well, I mean, it is Dumbledore; and if he says not to worry for now, then I think we should believe him. I know it sounds strange, but what else can we do?" Harry nodded, but didn't look at her. Hermione took no notice.  
  
"Look, it's been a long day. I think we should all go to bed early and get some sleep. Don't worry about it, I have a feeling that everything will be fine." Hermione then left the room to go to Ginny's and rest. Ron shook his head after her.  
  
"Everything's not going to be fine Harry," he said, looking at him. "I don't care what Hermione says or thinks. Something is going on and I don't like it. I don't like it one bit."  
  
And inside, Harry felt the exact same way.  
  
****  
  
Wormtail cowered in fear as Voldemort yanked open the door and strode into the room. Wormtail followed, though by looks of him against his better judgment.  
  
"You were am-amazing my Lord," Wormtail complemented, as Voldemort sat down briskly in an armchair and smiled wickedly. "Your powers are growing. I can feel it."  
  
"Yes," Voldemort answered, flexing his long fingers. "I can feel it too. I have forgotten what it feels like to kill..."  
  
"My Lord, about those Muggles that you-disposed of. why them my Lord? You did not like the first three families the Death Eaters chose. Why them? Why kill them my Lord? Do you have a plan?" Wormtail quivered, waiting for the Dark Lord to spring at him for questioning his authority...but it never came. Voldemort simply breathed in deeply and look away. When he spoke, his voice was calm and collected.  
  
"You are sharp servant, but I have my own reasons for ridding of that family. There is no plan of mine to speak of, Wormtail. Do not prolong this discussion any longer. Now leave me, I want to be on my own for this moment being." Wormtail bowed low and left the room, convinced that the Dark Lord was simply having a good time, and that there was no plan forming in his mind. But he did not see that Voldemort's glinting eyes said otherwise.  
  
****  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione all walked to Gryffindor Tower together. Their trip to Hogwarts on the train seemed to go by in a rush of color and sound. To their surprise, Dumbledore was no where in sight as they boarded the train, and the three were greatly disturbed by his lack of person. Why had he said he would see them on the Hogwarts Express if he did not intend to?  
  
But as they reached Hogwarts and entered the great oak doors, all thought of him was driven out of their minds as the feeling of finally returning home settled in. The feast that night and the Sorting when on as always except for one thing...Dumbledore was not there again. When Harry noticed this, he had looked to Ron and Hermione in response. They were just as oblivious to the answer as he was. The Headmaster was always at the Start of Term Feast, so where was he this year? Harry had sat uneasily through the entire Sorting because of this.  
  
But now that the feast was over with, and a long day of school stood before them, Harry forgot, once again, about Dumbledore's absence and trudged his way up to his dormitories with the rest of the fifth year Gryffindors.  
  
He and Ron said goodnight to Hermione in the common room and entered their own room. The familiar five four-poster beds lay as they were the year before and all five boys' trunks sat peacefully at the foot of each bed.  
  
Quickly, Harry dressed in his pajamas and crawled under his covers, falling asleep almost instantly, thinking that he would worry about Dumbledore tomorrow morning.  
  
****  
  
Hermione hurried down stairway and out the portrait. She had been so immersed in her Standard Book of Spells Grade Five that she did not notice the time. It was almost 8:35 and she still hadn't been down for breakfast. She ran all the way down the staircases, through the hidden tapestries and past puzzled onlookers. She had just been bounding down the last stairway when she ran into someone tall, pale and blonde. The impact almost brought Hermione to the floor, but she was able to catch herself. The other person, however, seemed to be unaffected by the collision.  
  
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry," Hermione apologized while looking down at her robes and dusting them off. The other did not move at all. "I was just in a real hurry and I didn't see where I was going! Are you okay?"  
  
She looked up at the person, a boy, and noticed that he was about a head tall er than her. His smug expression and slick blonde hair was enough to make Hermione drop her apologetic tone and adopt a blunt one in its place.  
  
"Malfoy." Hermione shot him a look of venom. Ever since his cruelty from fourth year, especially in the aftermath of Cedric's death, Hermione hated him that much more. He in return, stared at her, eyes blue fire, face of growing disgust. Taking in his silence, Hermione took this chance to try and slide past him to the Great Hall, but Malfoy never gave her the chance to even surpass him.  
  
His arm shot out and snatched up the front of her robes. Hermione looked on in surprise. He turned toward her and pulled her to his face, so that they were nose to nose. He towered over her, and his face expressed nothing more or less than murder. When he spoke, Hermione's blood froze and for the first time, Draco Malfoy truly terrified her.  
  
"If you ever touch me again Granger," he said in a slow, drawling whisper. "I will personally make sure that you are lying at my feet...dead. No mudblood touches a Malfoy and lives to see another day. " And with no more than what he gave her, Malfoy let go of her and swished his way up the staircase.  
  
Hermione was trembling, almost close to tears. She had always been able to cope with Malfoy, whether he be insulting Harry, Ron or even herself. But what he said to her right there was the first death threat he ever gave her and it wasn't something Hermione wanted to hear again anytime soon. Shaking madly, she went into the Great Hall and found Harry and Ron, laughing and joking with one another. She walked over to them and fell down next to Harry.  
  
"Hermione, you okay?" Ron asked from across the table. "You look terrible."  
  
"Yeah, Hermione? What's wrong?" Harry laid a hand on her shoulder and felt her quiver uncontrollably under his fingers. "Hermione?"  
  
"I have something to tell you," she said to each of them. "Its something Malfoy said, and he wasn't joking either..."  
  
****  
  
Malfoy stalked through the corridors on his way to the Slytherin common room, pushing everyone out of his way. He had changed somehow, much more in the mental appearance than in physical.  
  
His features had not modified; he still had slicked back blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a pale, pointed face. To some girls of his year he had become tall, dark and handsome in their eyes, a strong, powerful wizard who any decent girl would want. Though to many others, he stayed the same as the horribly cruel Malfoy boy.  
  
But now his face was not just hateful but blank, expressing that he did not care about or, in fact, see the world around him. He held himself differently, radiating harsh power to anyone who crossed his path; and his blue eyes looked like endless, empty voids. Shadowed windows to an abandoned house. He appeared to be Draco Malfoy, yet not being him in so many ways.  
  
His mind had altered also. He thought more of gaining power and striking pure fear into his enemy's hearts than just trying to out do Saint Potter and his tag along friends. His mind had become somewhat like his father's; cold and unfeeling. He took no more joy or, at least, comfort in his own friends, Crabbe and Goyle; and even the members of his own house had come to cower in his wake.  
  
Just a few minutes ago he had run into Hermione Granger, literally, and his actions towards her were murderous. Usually he would simply insult her and then be on his way, but calling her Mudblood didn't seem at all satisfying enough to his new self. Draco had snatched her up in his cold hands and challenged her life, knowing that fear would be her only reaction; but why had he done that?  
  
Instantly a fire burned in Draco's eyes. His own independent mind was faltering, and another, more evil and sinister took over him.  
  
"You did it because you had to," someone whispered in his head. "A disgrace to magical kind like that deserves to be tortured and broken like you did. She got what was coming to her, but next time, kill her..."  
  
Slowly, Draco's old mind of simple pleasures to rule over his students came to dominate him, and as he walked, his robes swishing behind him, he wondered what he had done. The voice died away before he could here its last words.  
  
"I know I'm better than them," he said to himself, "and I have always been rivals with the Gryffindors, but...did I really just threaten Granger's life?"  
  
Draco's steps quavered, and his blank blue eyes flickered slightly, briefly gaining back their regular glint. He came to a complete stop, and, for the first time in his life, he felt sorry about what he had done to Hermione.  
  
"I-I...I think I should apologize to her..."  
  
A group of Ravenclaw fifth years passed by him in a huddle, and they all giggled and pointed at him, swooning and fawning from a distance; but Draco did not take notice. A feeling of remorse had washed over him, and it felt weird. Suddenly his old self came flooding back, and Draco felt whole for the first time in months. He hadn't felt like this for quite some time; not since that night when...  
  
A stab of pain shot through Draco's left forearm, and he yelped silently in pain, his voice bouncing slightly against the stone walls of the corridor. He clutched his arm, feeling something spread throughout his body. He had bent over himself, clenching his eyes shut. Then, as suddenly as it had come he straightened, and once again, he did not look like Draco Malfoy.  
  
His eyes had gone blank again and he furrowed his brow in anger.  
  
"Granger got what she wanted," he said in a low hiss. "If she ever comes near me again I'll kill her. I'll kill that filthy Mudblood."  
  
He continued his journey to his common room, not wanting to attend lessons that day. So caught up in his walking, Draco did not notice the sudden blow of the wind or the small glitter of light that came up from behind him. He never heard the whisper of the soft voice that rang out through the castle; and his empty eyes never saw the girl standing in the shadows of a suit of armor, her long silky hair swishing in the wind. She had on a flowing, white dress that rippled out behind her, and her deep, dark blue eyes glared coldly at Draco as he passed her.  
  
She opened her mouth as if to speak. She did not move her lips, yet words cascaded out from her. They weaved together in the air, creating a haunting sort of song that even Draco could not ignore.  
  
"I'll be watching you...watching you...always..."  
  
Malfoy stopped momentarily, looking all around him for the source of the song, but he found no one. Glaring around him, he continued on his way. The girl shot him one last glance, than turned her head and vanished into the wind.  
  
****  
  
"Where is he?! Where is he?! Where is that little-"  
  
"Ron! Please, calm down!" Hermione tried her best to hush him up, but it was in vain. In spite of the puzzled looks that people all around were shooting the three friends, Hermione smiled. Whenever she was distressed, especially by Malfoy, Ron's first instinct was to knock his brains out. It wasn't exactly the right thing to do, going after Malfoy like that, but it was Ron and Hermione knew he never meant it; it was just his way of being a good friend.  
  
"Hey, Ron, what's wrong with you?" Seamus' voice called to him from down the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Nothing Seamus. Come on, let's get out of here," Harry said to Ron and Hermione. The three of them got up and left the Great Hall early. Before the walked through the great doors, Harry remembered something and stole a glance from the teacher's table. Everyone one was there except for two people. One was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, who hadn't been there the night before either, and the other was Dumbledore, again!  
  
"Hey Ron, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore isn't here today either. Where do you think he could be? This isn't like him," Harry questioned them, still staring at the Head table.  
  
"I don't know. Do you think something bad has happened to him?" Ron suggested.  
  
"Not at all," Hermione replied casually. Harry looked at her, confused.  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"Because look at Professor McGonagall," Hermione said, pointing at the Deputy Headmistress. McGonagall, a strict, dignified and powerful witch, sat comfortably in her seat next to Dumbledore's. She was in deep conversation with Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, and didn't seem at all concerned that the headmaster was no where in sight. She was smiling and laughing, which was extremely rare for her, with Madam Pomfrey. "She doesn't look very worried to me."  
  
"Your right," Harry answered. "Come, let's get out of here."  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione all headed out of the Great Hall. Harry, who was still thinking about Dumbledore, did not see where he was going and accidentally blocked someone's way.  
  
"Sorry," Harry muttered. He looked up from the floor to see who it was. It was Ginny. She was staring at him, blushing furiously. Harry's face turned red as well.  
  
"Oh, Harry," Ginny stuttered. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't see where...where I was going. I'm...uh-"  
  
"No, it's all my fault. I wasn't...I mean, I didn't see where I was going..." Harry moved to the side to unblock her way, but Ginny had done the same as well.  
  
"Sorry," Ginny muttered again, and hurried into the Great Hall before Harry could say anything more. Harry watched her go, not wanting to look at Ron or Hermione at the moment.  
  
"Let's go take a walk for a little bit, come on," Harry said, beckoning his friends to follow him. Ron and Hermione did so, with Ron laughing silently behind him.  
  
Harry trudged down the steps and made his way to the edge of the lake. Hermione hit Ron in the arm hard, making him stop mid-giggle. The two hurried so they could walk on either side of Harry. Ron clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Don't feel bad Harry, Ginny will come back to normal. Mind you I really wouldn't want her back to normal, she hasn't talked to me for so long and I'm grateful for that."  
  
Harry snorted. He knew Ron wasn't serious. It would break his heart of his sister never spoke to him ever again.  
  
"So Harry, why did you want to take a walk?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I was thinking about Dumbledore. I was just realizing that his absence is very strange. Where could he be? It doesn't feel safe at Hogwarts if Dumbledore isn't around."  
  
"I know what you mean." Hermione trembled slightly. "It never occurred to me that the reason everyone feels safe here is because they know that Dumbledore is always around. But with him gone-"  
  
"And why is he gone?" Harry exclaimed. "What could he be doing that has got him so busy?" Harry shook his head. "I just really need to talk to him."  
  
Silence followed this statement, broken only by the gentle breeze and the calming sound of the lake water. The three walked on for a few more moments, the quiet unusual but not uncomfortable. Then Harry was blinded by a bright flashing light that had appeared in front of him. Shocked and caught off guard, Harry fell backward, caught by Ron.  
  
"What the-" Harry said, blinking hard. It was Colin Creevey.  
  
"Alright there Harry?" Colin asked excitedly. "Sorry about that, but my dad wanted some pictures form this year, so I can keep him updated on everything at school."  
  
Ron shoved Harry to his feet and rounded on Colin. Colin didn't move at all, just watched Ron intently.  
  
"You nearly scared the life out of him!" Ron shouted. Colin looked up at him, not apparently sorry or scared...and raised his camera and flashed it in his face. Ron drew back, shielding his eyes. "Argh!"  
  
"Thank you for the picture Ron! Now my dad can finally see what you look like!" Colin said happily. Ron grunted under his breath.  
  
"Colin," Harry said, "this really isn't the time for this. We have bigger problems on our hands."  
"Oh." Colin looked down at the ground, yet not looking sad at all. "Okay then Harry, I'll come to you another time." He turned to go, but caught sight of Hermione, she had moved a little away when Harry fell back. Hermione looked at him strangely. Colin clicked her picture as well, but not blinding her. Hermione had been ready.  
  
"Sorry Hermione, but I had to get a picture of you. You look really pretty today. Hey Harry, Ron, did you know Hermione is pretty? If you did, why isn't she either or your girlfriends? Everyone else in your year have girlfriends. Dean does and I think Seamus too. I don't know about Neville but girls seem to fall all over Malfoy and-"  
  
"Colin, go."  
  
"Right Harry. Bye!" And he dashed away to the castle. Harry and Ron watched him go, then looked at Hermione. She was standing quite still, looking away from them. Her hair covered most of her face, so neither of them saw an embarrassed grin tug at her mouth.  
  
****  
  
Crystal gazed silently as Dumbledore and her little brother Leo talked on and on. They spoke of the rise of the Dark Lord, the fix Dumbledore was in with the Minister of Magic, and what Crystal's powers as one of the Oracles of Prodigy could do to help. Bored of the never-ceasing speech, Crystal got up from her seat and left the room. She returned once again to her dark, lonely dungeon, where the best of her powers worked under complete isolation. She walked to the middle of the room, making sure not to mess her clean dress. Standing in the center of the floor, Crystal closed her eyes and lifted her head to the ceiling.  
  
"Woh sem," she whispered into the shadows. She was speaking in the Tongue of Ytineres, her native language. She began to recite an incantation in her speech, her voice growing with every word...  
  
Ekat sou lmorf fels ym, Evael ehty dob dinheb. Tel em edilg hguo rhteht sdlrow, Ot rehtona ecal pdna emit, Seye ess tonem, Tey enim yam ess meht, Ekat ym rewop onthg ilf, Dna eht gnidnib dnemnu...  
  
Take soul from myself, Leave the body behind. Let me glide through the worlds, To another place and time. Eyes see not me, Yet mine may see them. Take my power on flight, And the binding unmend...  
  
Crystal slowly closed her eyes as the spell took form. If looked upon , it seemed like she was fading away, but it was only her astral self being lifted away from her body.  
  
"Let's see what a certain Mr. Malfoy is doing at Hogwarts," she said to herself. But soon she ceased her words, as her mind and soul were separated from one another and she was on her way to Hogwarts Castle.  
  
****  
  
Hermione trotted silently behind Harry and Ron who were in deep conversation about Quidditch and the new captain. Just three days ago Colin had mentioned that everyone was getting together all around them, and now Hermione could see it for herself. All down the corridor she was taking, she could see about half the school in pairs.  
  
Seamus and Lavender were sitting down on a bench, both laughing heartily with one another. Hermione looked to her right and saw Dean with about four girls around him. Parvati was just a little ways from him with four boys of her own around her. She had graciously abandoned her usually plait and now loved to flip her hair at the boys all around her. Even Neville had someone with him! A girl from Hufflepuff. She was tiny and very pretty, and they seem to really like each other.  
  
And it wasn't like Ron or Harry were suffering from lack of attention. Harry was living up to his hero profile nowadays and girls had been taken with him since the beginning. Hermione understood them though, Harry did look like your typical 'knight in shining armor' and it was hard even for her to ignore that. Even Ron was stealing glances his way. Not only did girls eye Harry but him as well. He had grown extremely tall and lean and his humor was gaining more than just laughs from the girls. Neither noticed any of this, however.  
  
All around her Hermione saw the beginnings of 'love' sprout up in everyone; and try as she might, she could not ignore the feeling of being cheated out of it. Guilty though it felt to her, Hermione had to admit that she wasn't the ugliest girl around. In fact, she never knew that guys all around had noticed this as well, and many wanted to approach her. She also didn't know that the reason no boy expressed no more than homework interest towards her was because everyone had dubbed her either Harry's girl or Ron's.  
  
Hermione shook her head as two Ravenclaw girls giggled madly over some Slytherin boy. It wasn't like she wanted Harry or Ron as hers, and she didn't like the idea of being struck down by puppy love; it was just that lonely feeling of knowing your the only one without someone else. And then the thing that could only make her feel worse came strutting down the hall.  
  
Draco Malfoy rounded the corner, his robes flowing out behind him. His face was not screwed up in anger, yet his eyes shone powerfully at everyone around. He had Pansy Parkinson bouncing around at his side and about a dozen other girls in tow. Hermione watched intently as he walked closer to where Harry, Ron and her were. Hermione knew the girls couldn't resist him, and she could see it for herself but never acknowledged it. He drew the attention of everyone in the corridor. Parvati forgot her admirers and stared after him. Lavender stole a quick glance from outside before Seamus could notice. The Ravenclaw girls stood absolutely still as he brushed past them, and when he had gone they broke out in excited fits. Even Neville's girlfriend couldn't help but look at Malfoy dreamily, to the slight disappointment of Neville.  
  
Hermione's eyes widened as Malfoy's gaze caught sight of Harry and Ron, who returned it coldly. She could see his eyes dart around, looking for her. Scared, Hermione grabbed the back of Ron's robes and pulled him in front of her.  
  
"What the-...Hermione? What are you doing?" Ron demanded.  
  
"I don't want Malfoy to see me."  
  
Malfoy stopped beside them. Hermione cowered silently behind Ron.  
  
"Potter," Draco said, every word dripping with venom, "Weasley...Granger."  
  
"Get lost Malfoy," Harry shot back as he saw Hermione quiver as Draco said her name. Malfoy narrowed his eyes. Parvati scowled at them from behind his back, and the admirers simply watched from a good distance. And for once, Malfoy listened and stalked off once again.  
  
"Thank you Harry, Ron," Hermione said, emerging from behind Ron. Parvati glared at her and followed Draco, but his tow of girls lingered for a moment, eyeing Harry and Ron.  
  
Hermione knew they would tag along with them just as well with Malfoy, but as they glowered jealously at her, Hermione knew why they didn't. It was simply because she was with them all the time. Soon however, they stomped away.  
  
"Hermione, you okay?" Ron asked. "You look run down."  
  
"Let's just go back to the common room," she replied, starting on her way. "I can't stand being down here anymore." Hermione let out a frustrated sigh as two Gryffindors walked hand in hand past her.  
  
****  
  
Dumbledore drifted through the chaos of color and sound. His old and fragile body hovered gently as he made his way back to Hogwarts Castle. Traveling from the Oracles to present day Britain had taken much longer than he thought, and the agreement of their assistance even longer. He was now much too late to accompany Harry, Ron and Hermione on their journey to Hogwarts and he had missed the Start of Term Feast. But all was right now and good news was all Dumbledore was bearing.  
  
He closed his eyes as his travel kept on. The help of the Oracles of Prodigy, especially the girl's, would prove to be great in the fight against Voldemort.  
  
'Unless', Dumbledore thought calmly to himself, 'Harry does not agree to go through it.' Dumbledore sighed and pushed that thought away. Harry had to agree with the plan for the future of all things living. He would take the offer and rise to the occasion.  
  
'And Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger will help him too,'  
  
The wise wizard smiled. Everything was going smoothly, and he would soon return home to his students.  
  
****  
  
Harry rested his head on his hand as Professor Binns, the ghostly History of Magic teacher, droned on and on about something that happened in the Middle Ages. As Harry gazed around the room, he saw the usual air of boredom. Dean was doodling absentmindedly in his notebook, Seamus was staring blankly at his quill on the desk and Neville was entertaining himself with his Remembrall and wand, pretending that the wand was attacking the Remembrall. Harry looked to his side and saw Ron had fallen completely asleep. He was face down on his book. Harry changed his focus to his other side to see what Hermione was doing. She was in the same position as Harry, twirling her wand through her fingers and emitting little sparks here and there just for fun.  
  
Harry silently ripped off a piece of his parchment and scribbled something on it. He passed it over to Hermione and plopped his head down on the desk, waiting for her reply. Hermione took the parchment and read it:  
  
You look bored.  
  
Hermione shook her head, amused, and posted her response before slipping it back to Harry. Harry picked it up and held it to his face.  
  
Nothing gets past you Harry.  
  
Harry grinned and wrote back.  
  
Have you noticed Dumbledore hasn't been here all week? Isn't that just a bit strange for him? Why aren't any of the teachers worried?  
  
They probably know all about it. This is Dumbledore we're talking about Harry, he's fine. Trust me.  
  
Hermione touched the parchment with her wand, making the words dance around. Harry smiled at this. He dipped his quill into his ink and drew something on the parchment. He slipped it into Hermione's hand.  
  
Hermione saw a moving picture of Ron sleeping on the desk and falling over, knocking his wand out of his hand and making a puff of smoke engulf him. Hermione fought to stifle a laugh and Harry plopped his head back on his desk grinning. Someone reached an arm over his head and plucked the parchment out of Hermione's hands. Harry looked up quickly and saw Ron had awakened and was watching, transfixed, as the cartoon of himself played out for him. Hermione and Harry sniggered quietly.  
  
Ron shot them a look of sarcastic amusement and touch the parchment with his own wand. Harry watched as the cartoon changed. When Ron's wand fell out of his hand, it flew into the air and hit Malfoy on the forehead. A lightening bolt-shaped scar appeared where it hit. Cartoon Malfoy began jumping around in excitement, showing everyone around his new scar.  
  
Harry could not contain himself. He burst out in laughter along with Ron and Hermione, gaining the attention of the whole class.  
  
"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, what is so amusing to you?" Professor Binns asked from the head of the room. It took Harry quite a while to answer him. Every time he tried to apologize he burst out in laughter once again.  
  
"Prof-I'm so..." laughter. "I really didn't mean to-" Fits of giggles. "I'm not laughing at you Professor." Laughter. "I was just..."  
  
"Potter, please spit it out!"  
  
"I'm so sorry. It was just something I was thinking-" And then Harry stopped abruptly. His laughter disappeared almost instantly and a puzzled look claimed his face. Ron's roaring laugh slowly died away along with Hermione's as they watched him.  
  
"Potter?" Binns asked again.  
  
"Harry? Harry what's wrong with you?" Ron poked him in the arm, but it had no affect on Harry. He just started looking frantically around the room, his eyes growing wide.  
  
"Mr. Potter, what is wrong with you!" Professor Binns had glided to his desk and was staring at him in a stern way. "Potter, Potter!"  
  
Harry could hear it, it was growing louder with every note. Someone, somewhere, was singing; singing in a haunting, high-pitched voice. It chilled Harry to the bones.  
  
"Harry, Harry answer him!" Hermione said from his side. But Harry wasn't to be distracted at the moment. He had to find the owner of that voice, he knew that somehow he knew that person.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
And then words began to creep their way into the song, and Harry could tell the voice was female:  
  
"If they hear you, they will die..."  
  
"What!?!" Harry pushed his seat back and stood up.  
  
"If they hear you, they will die..."  
  
"What are you talking about?!"  
  
"Mr. Potter!"  
  
"If they hear you, they will die..."  
  
"Harry! Harry, who are you talking?"  
  
Harry wasn't listening to anyone but the voice. It was growing fainter, leaving the air around him.  
  
"It's moving!" Harry yelled, and he darted around the desk, through Prof. Binns and out the door.  
  
"Not another voice again," Ron moaned, following Hermione as they left after Harry. "It better not be a snake again."  
  
Harry darted around the castle, too fast for Ron or Hermione to keep up with him.  
  
"If they here you, they will die..."  
  
"Who? What are you talking about?" Harry called into the air, following the voice. He bolted around a corner and stopped dead in his path. The girl with the wild hair and blue eyes was standing there. But now her hair was sleek and shiny, and the rags she once wore had transformed into a beautiful flowing dress. She was standing very still in the middle of the corridor, looking at him with eyes like slits.  
  
"If they hear you, they will die..."  
  
"Who?" Harry cried. "Who are you talking about?" And without saying a word she answered his question.  
  
"Harry! Harry, where are you?" Ron and Hermione's calls echoed to him through the castle. Harry looked on at the girl.  
  
"If they hear you, they will die..." she repeated, her lips barely moving.  
  
"Then they won't hear me," Harry said, watching her. "I will not call them."  
  
The girl smiled, a slow smile; a smile that said she knew so much more than he could. Then she muttered a word, and Harry could hear it all the way from the other end of the hallway. It was the one word that Voldemort himself had used on him, and Harry's eyes widened in fear as the spell began to take form. The one word that set it free bounced around the walls, repeating itself over and over in his head: Crucio.  
  
Pain beyond pain erupted throughout Harry's body. The spell was just as Voldemort had done, but a hundred, no, a thousand times worse. Harry fell to the ground in pure agony, while knives pressed into his skin. His body was aching all over, and he wasn't sure which would be better right then, having the pain stop or simply dying on the spot.  
  
He opened his mouth to scream; to call Hermione and Ron, but he had hardly parted his lips before the girl whispered in his ear.  
  
"If they hear you, they will die..."  
  
Harry shut his mouth, but he needed to know why.  
  
Why! he said in his mind. Why will they die?  
  
"Harry this isn't funny! Come back! Who were you talking to?" Hermione called.  
  
"Probably the basilisk."  
  
"Ron be quiet and help me call for Harry!"  
  
"How can I if I'm quiet Hermione?"  
  
Trust me.  
  
Why must I? Harry thought, as the pain increased with a blast and he had to clench his jaw so as not to scream. How can I trust someone like you?  
  
Because you must. Trust me please, the time is coming soon. Just hold on and don't say a word. Trust me...  
  
And to Harry's astonishment, he could see her in his mind. She was crying, pleading with him to trust her. It was as though she were sorry for causing him pain.  
  
Why must I?  
  
"Harry, tell us where you are! Come on, tell us before Hermione starts crying and I have to drag her around the castle!"  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"Ow! Harry, she hit me!"  
  
The time is coming soon! Hold on!  
  
Harry was drifting away. He couldn't hold on, and the pain was horrible. He had to call to them, they had to hear him...  
  
NO! DON'T LET THEM HEAR YOU!  
  
"Oh no, she's crying! Hermione, get off me!"  
  
"Why won't he answer! Harry, this isn't funny! Where are you?"  
  
"Ow! Hermione, stand up, your crushing me!"  
  
Almost...hold on, it's almost here...  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
"Harry!"  
  
NOW!  
  
And then Harry flipped onto his back, panting hard. The spell had lifted, and his body felt as though he had fallen from the tallest tower. He looked up and saw the girl standing there. She was looking sadly at him, the air around shimmering with light.  
  
"I'm sorry." She was still crying, and a single tear fell from her blue eyes and towards Harry. He watched it as it caught the sun and glistened above him. It fell onto Harry's chest and he looked at it for quiet some time before saying anything.  
  
"Why, why are you sorry?" Harry looked back at the girl, but she was gone. She left no trace behind, making it as though she were never there. Harry's green eyes were wide in amazement, but soon he forgot her as the aftershock of the spell hit him gently. He was groaning slightly when a disgruntled Ron come around the corner half carrying-half dragging a woebegone Hermione.  
  
"Harry," Ron shouted to him. Harry looked to the side and saw them. "Hermione broke down when you didn't answer. She thought something terrible happened to you like it did with me."  
  
"Ron!" Harry watched as Hermione beat Ron's chest with her fists. "Ron, he's not answering us! What if he's hurt like you were and we can't help him! Ron, he was hearing a voice! Another voice! So many voices everywhere and we can never hear any of them! Ron..." Hermione's eyes were closed, so she hadn't noticed Harry lying sprawled on the floor.  
  
"Hermione!" Ron shouted, lifting up her head with his hand, which was quite hard because he was sagging from her weight. "Harry is right there and I don't think he's alright, but I can't help him because your crushing me!"  
  
"Harry?" Hermione's head snapped up and she saw Harry right away. She dropped her depressed self very fast and fell to his side, holding her head high in her usual dignified stance.  
  
"Harry, what happened? Why are you breathing so hard?" she asked him, helping him sit up and resting her hand over his forehead, checking his temperature.  
  
"Er-" Harry stammered.  
  
"Oh, your dreadfully warm but your shivering! We need to take you to the hospital wing now." She stood up and looked at Ron.  
  
"Well aren't you going to help me? Your not doing Harry any good just standing there," she said in a scolding tone. Ron dropped his jaw. He threw up his hands at Hermione and walked toward her.  
  
"Fine Hermione, I'm not helping Harry at all. I was just the one crying my heart out over nothing and delaying us from finding him in the first place which could have maybe helped us save him...but no! I had to break down and have you drag me here as a wreck!" He stared at her, waiting for a reply. Hermione went right up to his face and stared back.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Despite the event that had just happened, Harry couldn't help but smile at the astonished look on Ron and the satisfied grin on Hermione.  
  
****  
  
Leo heard something come from the tower dungeon, so he crept in to check if Crystal was okay. He found her, close to tears, crumpled in a heap near the far wall. She was talking to herself and slamming the ground with her hand. Every now and then she lost her sense and she would throw out her hand and hit the wall with a spell that would make the entire tower shake. Leo walked over to her.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked her. He wasn't into the pity factor since she had snuck away from him and Dumbledore and went to visit Hogwarts again.  
  
"Isaidisory." Her face was buried into the stone floor, so he couldn't understand her.  
  
"What?" Leo flipped her over and moved to the side as another spell blast erupted from her hand.  
  
"I said I was sorry."  
  
"Sorry to who?"  
  
"I said sorry to the boy," Crystal answered, watching him. Leo didn't quite get what she was saying, but then it hit him and he became furious.  
  
"You apologized during an intervention?" he yelled. She turned away from him, answering his question with her guilty shroud. "Why?" he asked. "I mean, I know it was an improper one and Dumbledore himself was not at all pleased with your carelessness, but telling the boy sorry during his intervention? Crystal, you know the consequences!"  
  
"Yes, Leo, I know them," Crystal replied annoyed. "I have to deal with them if they ever come up, and I am your older sister; but I couldn't help it. What made me do it?!" She slammed the ground again and sat up. "I had come close to apologizing only twice before with his friends, the girl and the red-haired boy."  
  
"But why this boy?" Leo persisted. "You've done more powerful and painful things before but never did you come near expressing emotion! What was different with this boy?"  
  
Crystal couldn't answer him. She knew that if she let her own emotions get in the way of her magic, terrible consequences lay in her future.  
  
Crystal's interventions, powerful as they were, depended fully on the life of her victim; and there had been something different about his life. Something there that she had never seen before, yet she didn't know what. Crystal never expressed emotion during her magic, but this boy, this Harry Potter, had brought her to do it.  
  
At this, she set off a chain reaction of spell blasts at the fact that a mere boy had more power over her then she did over him. 


	3. Unrequited Love

Chapter Three ~ Unrequited Love  
  
"Hermione, I really don't need go to the hospital wing," Harry said, but this was a down right lie. His body was soar from the Cruciatus Curse, and he wasn't sure whether he had a fever or lack of body heat; but the one person he really wanted to see wasn't available: Dumbledore.  
  
"Harry," Ron said, holding his arm and helping him up the stairs, "you're joking yourself. I know for a fact that you feel just as bad as I did when I got slashed...only about a million times worse. Just see Madam Pomfrey will you? It would make you feel a lot better and make us a lot happier knowing your treated."  
  
"You're right, Ron." Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned the corner to the hospital wing. "But while she's helping me, would you two please go to McGonagall and ask her where Dumbledore is? I need to talk to him now!" They led him into the hospital wing and Hermione ran to get Madam Pomfrey from her office.  
  
"Harry, do you want to tell us something?" Ron asked him, setting him down on a bed.  
  
"Not yet," was all Harry could say back because Madam Pomfrey and Hermione had come back. Hermione had obviously told her whatever she knew, for the nurse set to work on Harry right away.  
  
"Just go talk to McGonagall, please," Harry called to Ron and Hermione, right before the curtain to his bed was drawn close.  
  
"Why does he want Professor McGonagall?" Hermione questioned Ron. Ron shook his head.  
  
"He wants to know if Dumbledore was back yet, he wants to talk with him."  
  
"Well then, let's go and see." Hermione tugged Ron's sleeve. Ron nodded and followed her out of the hospital wing.  
  
"Do you think we should go and explain to Professor Binns why we all ran out on him?" Ron asked her.  
  
"I don't think there's any need. Once we tell McGonagall and hopefully Dumbledore about Harry, I'm sure everything will get straightened out. Besides, were too late to catch him anymore." Hermione rounded the corner and started up the staircase.  
  
"Why?" Ron continued, following her.  
  
"Because of...that." Hermione looked up and the bell for the end of lessons sounded throughout the school.  
  
"Everyone will be on their way to lunch and then their next class. We won't be able to find Professor Binns for awhile until lessons start. Come on, we have to catch Professor McGonagall before she goes anywhere as well."  
  
The two friends hurried up and down staircases, through hallways and corridors, and into many, classrooms but McGonagall seemed to have disappeared like Dumbledore.  
  
"We've been everywhere with no sign of her and lunch will be ending soon. We'll have to go to lessons as well, Hermione," Ron informed her. They walked for a while in silence down one staircase.  
  
"Harry wasn't telling us something, was he Ron?" Hermione asked him. Ron nodded.  
  
"I have a feeling, though, that it has to do with the girl we've been seeing. He was acting like I was when, you know..." he pointed to his side.  
  
"Yeah," was all Hermione could say.  
  
"It was like he couldn't tell us because it felt, I don't know, awkward and weird. Stupid even," Ron said. Silence once more.  
  
They walked on, mercifully seeing no one in the hallways for awhile. But then the sound of footsteps echoed from the corridor ahead. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, both wondering who it was. Then voices accompanied the footsteps, and it was the last two voices either of them wanted to hear.  
  
"Pansy, I really don't want to go the library with you right now. Just, go yourself," Draco insisted, obviously trying to shake her off.  
  
"But Draco, I-"  
  
"Pansy, I busy."  
  
Hermione's eyes widened and she motioned to Ron to hide in the broom cupboard to their right. Ron, however, didn't catch on very fast, and Malfoy and Pansy were coming around fairly quickly. Hermione yanked the door open and shoved Ron inside. She herself rushed in and shut the door closed just as the other two came into the hallway.  
  
"Hermione-"  
  
"Be quiet, Ron!" Hermione opened the door just a crack and peered out of it. Malfoy was standing right outside of it, apparently annoyed with Pansy.  
  
"Pansy, please just leave me alone!" Malfoy gently pushed her aside and tried to surpass her, but she clung onto his arm pathetically. Hermione felt someone come up from behind her. She looked up and saw Ron watching them too.  
  
"Draco, you don't spend time with me anymore," Pansy whined.  
  
"It may be because I just really don't want too. Now go away." He pulled free of her and turned to go, only to be bombarded by almost all the girls in fifth year.  
  
"Draco, stay away from Pansy and come with me to the library!"  
  
"No, don't go with her!"  
  
"Yes, go with me instead!"  
  
"Let's go to the common room Draco..."  
  
"...and leave these girls behind and take a walk around..."  
  
"...the lake with me, not them!"  
  
"This is disgusting," Ron said above Hermione, and she nodded in agreement. Ron moved backward a little so Hermione could get away from the door and sit on the shelf in the back of the cupboard. Ron watched her, and then turned back to the commotion outside.  
  
"All of you, please, just leave me alone! No, I don't want to hear anything any of you say! Just...just..." Malfoy was losing their attention, their hearing attention at least, as every girl there began flirting with him again.  
  
"That's weird," Ron said over his shoulder to Hermione. Hermione looked up.  
  
"What is?" she asked.  
  
"Malfoy,"  
  
"Well, that's no surprise."  
  
"No," Ron said. "Come over here and look." He motioned for her to look out the door. Hermione got up and crawled under Ron, peeking a little out of the bottom of the tiny slit. Malfoy was searching for a way out, but he looked odd. He looked extremely nervous for one thing, and his right hand was wrapped tight around the middle of his left forearm. Hermione noticed that he flinched every time someone came close to touching it.  
  
"Fine," Malfoy called over their voices. "Everyone...meet me in the library and I promise to meet you there for. whatever you had planned." An embarrassed look actually claimed his face as all the girls squealed and rushed down the corridor, fighting their way to the library.  
  
"Wonder what's wrong with him," Hermione thought out loud. Draco watched them go, and then winced slightly. He clutched his arm tighter. Something about the way he was acting seemed familiar to her, but she'd never seen anyone act like that.  
  
"Is it just me or is this one big deja vu?" Ron asked Hermione, speaking aloud her thoughts.  
  
"It's not just you," she replied. Then she jumped a little as Malfoy's eyes briefly skimmed over the cupboard where they hid, and she got up quickly and rushed to the back of the room. Draco heard her, but granted the noise no more than a curious look before hurrying down the hall, opposite the way the girls went. He had no intention of meeting any of them and every intention to take a long, lonely walk around the lake. Ron made sure he was gone before opening the door.  
  
"Hermione, he's gone now. Come on, we have to find McGonagall. Hermione?" Ron looked back and saw her pressed up against the back wall. "Hermione, you can come out now."  
  
"Are you sure he's gone?" she asked nervously. Ron furrowed his brow in confusion.  
  
"Yes, I watched him go myself."  
  
"Positive?" she asked again. She took a small step towards the doorway.  
  
"Hermione, Malfoy really scared you when he said he'd kill you, didn't he?" Ron asked. Hermione bore her eyes into the ground.  
  
"Of course not. Why would I take him seriously? It's just Malfoy; he's nothing but talk." She whisked past Ron into the corridor. Ron closed the door and went to her side.  
  
"Hermione, don't try to lie to me. It won't work," he told her. Hermione said nothing on the subject.  
  
"Maybe she's in the faculty lounge," she said, and started to walk to her left. Ron caught her arm. "Ron, what is it?"  
  
"Hermione, why did he scare you so much? And don't say he didn't because I know you and if Malfoy is dumb enough to cross you he'd get slammed across the face!" Hermione smiled. "Tell me the truth."  
  
"I-" Hermione stopped. She stared blankly past Ron for a moment, thinking of the way Malfoy spoke to her.  
  
"If you ever touch me again Granger, I will personally make sure that you are lying at my feet...dead."  
  
Then she looked at Ron, at first too embarrassed to admit she was afraid, but should she be? This was one of her best friends, he would do nothing about it but either comfort her or punch Malfoy's lights out.  
  
"Oh Ron, it was terrible," Hermione finally said. Her voice was cracking. "There was this look in his eyes, like he wanted to kill me right then and there. It was horrid." Tears began to fill her eyes. Ron simply stood there, not saying anything. Then he pulled her into a tight hug, holding her close.  
  
"Hermione, if he ever comes near you, Harry and I will do everything to protect you. You're my best friend, and by the looks of it you're also Harry's. Just don't be afraid to ask for our help. Okay?"  
  
"Okay," Hermione said, and hugged him back. They stayed that way for awhile, taking comfort in another friend's embrace. Then they broke apart and dove back into business mode.  
  
"Now, let's see, you said McGonagall might be in the faculty lounge?" Ron questioned.  
  
"Yes," Hermione answered. She began walking to the lounge, Ron following suite. "She should be there, or else I don't know where else."  
  
The two whirled around the corner and up the staircase that was waiting for them there.  
  
****  
  
"There she is!" Hermione cried, pointing out the window and across the courtyard. Ron followed her finger and saw her too. Professor McGonagall was stepping out of the wall there. She looked around for awhile, and then turned her back to them and began to walk away.  
  
"No, Professor! Professor McGonagall, we need to talk to you!" Hermione climbed out the window and landed on the grass outside. Ron laughed at this, but copied her lead. McGonagall was quite astonished.  
  
"Miss Granger! Mr. Weasley! Oh my goodness, what is the matter with you?" she asked, as Hermione was helped over the opposite window by Ron and Ron climbed over into the hallway after her.  
  
"Professor, we were wondering if Dumbledore was back yet from...well, actually we don't know if he really went anywhere. We were just wondering if he was available," Hermione questioned. McGonagall stared at her for a long time.  
  
"Why must you talk to the Headmaster so suddenly, Miss Granger?" she interrogated. Ron answered for her.  
  
"Because something happened to Harry, Professor; and he wanted to talk to Professor Dumbledore."  
  
McGonagall waited for a moment, obviously thinking about it, and then she nodded to them and turned to the wall.  
  
"Alright then Mr. Weasley. You and Miss Granger may go into the Headmaster's office and speak to him; but mind you he his very tired. He has traveled a long way and he may seem drained at the moment, but do not hesitate to ask him anything. Now, come on." And she led the two in front of the wall she just came out of. It had a stone gargoyle in front of it.  
  
Ron suddenly realized that he had never been to Dumbledore's office; and by the look on Hermione's face, neither had she. They glanced at each other, and then back at the wall. Professor McGonagall watched the gargoyle.  
  
"Cockroach cluster."  
  
The gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside. Ron and Hermione looked on wide-eyed as the wall receded in and a spiral staircase lay within.  
  
"Well," Professor McGonagall said. "Step in, both of you."  
  
Ron did so, but Hermione stayed out for awhile.  
  
"Hermione, come on."  
  
"Wait Ron," Hermione said, turning to McGonagall. "Professor, could you please check on Harry in the hospital wing for us? We just want to know if he's okay." She waited for her response. Professor McGonagall smiled slightly. A twinkle like Dumbledore's appeared in her eyes.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger. I will check on Mr. Potter for you two. It is very kind of both of you to think of him. Now go on, do not keep the Headmaster waiting." She gave them a small nod and walked toward the hospital wing.  
  
"Come on Hermione, let's go to Dumbledore. Harry needs him." He watched her as she nodded and stepped on the staircase. It immediately began spiraling upward, bringing them right to Dumbledore's office door. Ron turned to Hermione. She looked at him, confused.  
  
"Well," he started, waiting. She narrowed her eyes in puzzlement.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well," he motioned to the door, "go ahead and knock."  
  
"Why don't you knock?" Hermione asked him, annoyed yet amused.  
  
"I don't know," Ron answered, averting his gaze. "I don't want to knock on his door if he's tired. Better you startle him than me. Your the top student, he won't get mad at you."  
  
"Ron you're impossible!" Hermione shoved him and raised the giant brass knocker. She let it fall three times. The two waited a few moments before the door was opened. When it was a tall wizard with a long, white beard, half-moon glasses, and a long crooked noise stood before him. When he laid his eyes on the two friends, a smile crept its way onto his face. Ron and Hermione returned the smile.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, I have been waiting for a visit from you two for quite some time. Please, step into my office and tell me everything I need to know about Mr. Potter and the girl."  
  
Ron and Hermione followed him in, both of their faces cloaked with surprise.  
  
****  
  
Harry paced back and forth in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that he stay overnight, and she wouldn't allow him to leave the wing at all before tomorrow. This was a hassle for Harry. It had only been an hour or so, but Harry was already getting bored and anxious.  
  
Trust me...  
  
It was so hard for him to relieve his mind of that girl's voice. This wasn't good either, because Harry was all alone in the hospital wing and that voice was creepy. Utterly freaking himself out, Harry grabbed his wand off his bedside table and started twiddling it between his fingers.  
  
Trust me...  
  
Harry increased his pacing speed, moving his wand around faster as well. He glanced at the door. It was empty, lonely of any sign of Ron or Hermione. Harry wished they would hurry up and come back. He really didn't want to be alone right now.  
  
Almost... hold on, it's almost here...  
  
Harry wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He could feel his scar under his fingers sizzle slightly. He tossed his wand up and down, watching the sparks it emitted, trying to distract himself.  
  
NOW!  
  
Harry slipped on the stone floor and his wand flew out of his hand. It hit the wall and set off a loud BANG! before releasing a gigantic cloud of smoke. The smoke brought with it a horrible smell.  
  
"Mr. Potter, what is that wretched odor?" Professor McGonagall's voice called from the doorway.  
  
"Professor!" Harry got up from the ground as McGonagall pulled out her own wand and waved it. The smoke cleared away immediately and the smell too, yet it left behind a faint tint of rotten cabbages and troll.  
  
"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" the aged woman asked him. Harry nodded and sat down on his bed. "Very good, Potter. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger just wanted to make sure you were."  
  
"Ron and Hermione? Where are they? Did they find Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
"Yes, Potter, they found him. They are speaking to him at this exact moment I believe. Now get some rest; I doubt you are in here just to wait for them." She smiled and left the room for her next class.  
  
"Thanks, Professor," Harry called out to her. He fell onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. "Okay. They found Dumbledore. That's good news. He'll come here and I'll explain everything to him and maybe he'll tell all three of us who that girl is-"  
  
Trust me...  
  
"-and maybe that will get her voice out of my head!" Harry turned over and brought the pillow down over his ears, hoping to block out the voice; but all he succeeded in doing was trapping it within his mind.  
  
****  
  
Draco stood alone on the edge of the lake. He stared at the water, thinking hard. Automatically his hand moved over to his arm. He looked at it and then quickly brought it down to his side again. He sighed and then fell onto the grass. For awhile he continued his stare and said nothing; didn't move at all and tried to make his own breathing as soft as possible.  
  
A soft wind curled its way through the trees and around him, casting a cool breeze across his face. For some reason it felt like the wind brought with it the presence of a person. He took advantage of this feeling and spoke into the silence.  
  
"There's something wrong with me," Draco said. "I haven't myself lately. I can't even remember a time where I felt normal. The last time I ever did was when-"  
  
He stopped. His own mind was reeling back to that night at his house. He had been sitting by the fireplace in their living room. He hadn't been much, just thinking about Harry Potter and his stupid friends and how much he hated them. He had been startled by his father walking into the room; swift and silent, like a serpent. Draco had looked up. Green light, a burning in his arm, the hard stone floor and screams. That was as much as he could recall.  
  
"I don't know what happened that night, but I'm sure as everything that I hated it." He raised his left arm and pulled back the sleeve. Upon his pale skin, embedded into his flesh was a jet black skull with a snake protruding from its mouth: the Dark Mark. But what Draco failed to notice was that something was different about his, a tiny slash mark lay to one side of the skull's bony face.  
  
Draco touched it gently with his fingers; it was cold to his touch. He closed his eyes to its wretched sight and covered it once more with his sleeve.  
  
"A year ago I would have loved to have you be a part of me, connecting me to the Dark Lord," he whispered. "But now all you have brought me is pain and burden; and if I could I would rip you off me and blow you to oblivion."  
  
Suddenly the Dark Mark flared with heat, torching Draco's skin. The burning went up his arm, past his shoulders, through his neck and into his eyes. Their original blue color was drained away, giving way to the dark grey that so many were used to. Draco himself fell away to Malfoy, and he stood up, dusting off his robes.  
  
Making sure his wand was safely tucked away under his sleeve, Malfoy looked around him once and then trudged back towards the castle. Crystal stood where he had sat, invisible to his eyes and anyone else's. She scowled at him and shimmered away, back to her tower.  
  
****  
  
Hermione followed behind both Professor Dumbledore and Ron, all three on their way to the hospital wing. As they hurried down one hallway Hermione saw a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff holding hands and flirting with each other. At this she failed to stifle a disgusted groan. Ron heard her.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked. Hermione just shook her head and walked on past Ron to stroll next to Dumbledore. The Headmaster looked at her and smiled.  
  
"Yes Miss Granger? I have the odd feeling that a question is at hand?"  
  
"Professor," Hermione began cautiously. "Will you tell us everything about...what's been going on in the past weeks?" She bit her lip, waiting. Dumbledore, however, saw no reason to rush the response, and they past quite a few corridors before he turned to answer her.  
  
"Miss Granger, I assure you that I will tell you all that I possess knowledge of; but on the accounts on whether it is all of what has been going on, I cannot say. I, might I add, am not all-knowing, and that may come as a bit of a shock to you." He smiled and winked once at her. Hermione could not help but smile.  
  
"Yes, Professor."  
  
"But I strongly caution you that whatever information is revealed to all three of you, please do not take it lightly. It is valuable, what I will tell you; so I ask that none of you go passing it around to your fellow students. What an uproar that would be." He laughed to himself and faced forward once more.  
  
Hermione turned to look at Ron who was trying to sort out what Dumbledore had said. He looked to her for clarity; but she shook her head, just as slightly puzzled as he.  
  
"Ah, and here we are." Hermione looked forward. They were at the hospital wing entrance. The Headmaster stepped aside, leading Hermione and Ron in. They allowed him to do so. Hermione quickly found Harry at the end of the row of beds, (he was the only one there). He had his pillow over his head, and his muffled voice spoke non-stop under its fabric. The three walked over to him and Ron seized the pillow and yanked it off.  
  
"What the-" Harry started. He blinked up at the light falling on his eyes; he couldn't see well yet.  
  
"Hello!" Ron said, smiling jauntily down at him.  
  
"AHH!" Harry screamed so loud and so suddenly that all four people in the room were affected. Ron jumped back, Hermione returned the scream, Harry fell out of bed and Dumbledore laughed. Ron backed into the curtains, Hermione slipped on the stone floor, Harry fell flat-face onto the floor and Dumbledore bowed his head and laughed. Ron fell to the ground in fabric, Hermione grabbed the edge of a bed and flipped it over, Harry's glasses broke and Dumbledore simply laughed.  
  
"Ow, my head..." Hermione moaned from the floor.  
  
"Myglasserbrokin," Harry mumbled, not moving from the ground.  
  
"They're attacking me!" Ron yelled from the heap of curtains also on the floor. Dumbledore continued to laugh. They stayed that way for a while, none of them moving except for Ron flailing with the curtains. Then Dumbledore spoke.  
  
"That was quite a performance," he chuckled. "But let us get down to business now."  
  
He bent down to help Hermione up and waved his wand so the bed righted itself. He raised Harry off the floor and left it to Hermione to repair his glasses; then he walked to the other side of the bed to Ron. Ron, who was extremely occupied, did not notice the Headmaster come to him.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, I think you've given those curtains a good beating," he said. Ron slowly stopped and gazed up at the wizard.  
  
"What? Oh, sorry Professor." Ron took Dumbledore's outstretched hand and heaved himself onto his feet just as Hermione flicked her wand and fixed Harry's shattered glasses.  
  
"Thanks for that one Ron," Harry said, climbing back into bed. "I really needed to crack my nose." He grinned at him. Ron gave him a 'shut up Harry' look.  
  
"What were you doing suffocating yourself anyway?" he asked. "Just because you're sick, doesn't mean you have to kill yourself!" Ron ducked as Harry threw a pillow at him.  
  
"Ron, be quiet," Hermione ordered, looking stern. Ron stopped abruptly.  
  
"All right then, let us begin. Harry, please start by telling me what happened to you just a few hours ago. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger informed me with what they know, but I am certain it is not all of it." The eyes behind his spectacles shone brightly in the slow setting sun. Harry held his gaze for just a moment.  
  
"Yes sir, there is more to what happened." Harry waited for Dumbledore's motion to proceed. But first he conjured up a winged armchair and sat down in it.  
  
"Please," he said, gesturing to Ron and Hermione, "rest your feet and take a seat. I imagine this will take sometime." He smiled at them and they beamed back. Hermione sat on the edge of Harry's bed and Ron pulled over a chair himself. "Now that we're all comfortable, Harry, you may begin." So, once again, for about the millionth time in all his four years of school, Harry was off, telling them all about his encounter.  
  
Harry told of the voice, of the girl and how she looked, what she had warned him about and of her prediction of Hermione and Ron if they heard him. He spoke of the pain, of hearing his friends far away, of the girl's saddened face and of her ongoing voice that was trapped within his mind.  
  
His story-telling was interesting enough, but it also took a lot of time as Harry wanted to go into every detail, knowing it would help Dumbledore and his explanation later. However, the length of the story was taking its toll on the listeners.  
  
Dumbledore sat as erect as before, watching Harry from the foot of the bed; but Ron and Hermione were slumping over. Ron had sunk low in his chair, his feet up on Harry's bed, his arms crossed and his head slung over the back rest, staring at the ceiling. Hermione had brought her legs up under her, sitting crossed-legged on the edge of the bed. Her usual proud posture was gone and her shoulders sagged a bit. She stared at the far wall, yet hearing everything Harry said.  
  
"So what I understand Harry," Dumbledore began when Harry finished, "is that this girl cast an Unforgivable Curse on you without emotion, yet she was incredibly remorseful afterwards?"  
  
"Yes, Professor," Harry replied. Dumbledore leaned on one side of the chair. He raised his hand at the elbow and placed his chin on his fingers, thinking hard. His gaze was not focused on Harry, but on a point to the side of him. There was nothing there, of course, so Dumbledore was probably recalling something in his mind. Harry just stared on.  
  
"How very strange," the aged wizard whispered. Harry, Ron and Hermione all looked at him in wonder. "Very, very strange for her..." the Headmaster repeated.  
  
"Sorry sir," Harry inquired, "but what is strange?" Dumbledore averted his gaze to match his. It was another long pause before he said a word.  
  
"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, what I am about to tell you is a secret so concealed that only two people in the entire wizarding world know about it, soon to be five. The secret that I am talking about will have all the answer to all of your questions. It is the reason behind your visions and encounters, your pains and her interventions. It is a secret that could, in fact, destroy the entire world." He stopped here, watching them all. The trio exchanged glances and then returned their attention to Dumbledore.  
  
"Sir, what do you mean when you said only two people know this secret, soon to be five?" Hermione interjected.  
  
"That, Miss Granger, is a very good question which I am most happy to answer." The Headmaster sat back in the armchair, crossing his legs and grasping either side of the armrests. "You three," he pointed to each one of them, "are about to be let in on this secret. Now I warn you not to tell anyone else of it. If this kind of information were released, chaos and mayhem would break lose. And if the Dark Lord ever knew-" He closed his eyes in horror. "But let us get on with the answers." Dumbledore stood up and began a slow, steady pace.  
  
"Professor, what's the big secret?" Ron asked bluntly. Dumbledore never stopped his pacing.  
  
"The Oracles of Prodigy."  
  
"Who?" all three asked at once. Dumbledore just nodded.  
  
"You don't know who they are, and that is what's expected. That," he said, shaking a finger at them and sitting back down, "is the big secret. But now I will tell you what and who they are. Now hush and do not speak yet, this explanation is very long, and it will require all your attention...  
  
"I suppose the story shall begin with who the Oracles of Prodigy are. Let me see, how to describe them-I guess the only way to really give you a picture of who they are is to say that they are the most powerful sorcerers to ever live. Now wait!" Dumbledore raised a hand to silence all three who were about to protest. "Let me speak, and then you may ask."  
  
"The Oracles of Prodigy are two people, a brother and sister at that. They posses the greatest and strongest powers of all. So powerful, in fact, that they could defeat Voldemort himself if they pleased." He grinned at their astonished faces.  
  
"But why don't they?" Ron burst out, forgetting about what Dumbledore said. Hermione had enough of him though; she climbed across the bed and walked around to Ron's chair. Raising an eyebrow at her, Ron asked what she was doing. Without saying a word Hermione pushed Ron's feet off the bed and unfolded his arms. She then sat on his lap and clasped a firm hand over his mouth, quieting him into surprised silence. Harry roared with laughter.  
  
"Good move Miss Granger," Dumbledore praised. Hermione just nodded while Ron stared up at her in annoyance. She kicked his leg and he yelped; she smack his head and he tried to retort with words against her hand. Then she pulled out her wand with her free hand and he stopped everything and nodded to her, staring at the wand. Tears of mirth filled Harry's eyes.  
  
"Please proceed Professor," Hermione told him. He nodded.  
  
"Very well, Miss Granger. The reason the Oracles never did, or don't now, defeat Voldemort is because they are, as you could call, not in this universe. They were banished away to the barren world of Enol, to live forever in a secured tower. For this there was reason. Their powers are much too strong and too dangerous for mortals like us to handle. And that is where I introduce to you the girl you all have seen.  
  
"Her name is Crystal Tiara, and she is one of the Oracles. The first born, actually. What she has done to all of you, show you visions of herself, scare you in the most potent matters and even inflict serious pain on all of you, is the horrid power she possesses. Her main one is the ability to see the future. Her formal name under her position is Wanderer; that is how you would greet her. Again, I know what your thinking: What's the big 'wow' about her ability to see the future? That's because so many can do it, right?  
  
"Wrong. No, listen to me first Harry, when Professor Trelawney predicted Voldemort's return that was a rare moment indeed. Crystal's powers are much more advanced than that. Her ability is detailed in its art. She can see anything, absolutely anything in the future. It matters not what time, what place, whom, when , where or why, she could see it and tell. But seeing the future takes its toll on her. In return for the gift of foresight, Crystal takes the future emotions of every person alive into her own body and is forced to accept them; most of them are involved with pain, emotionally and physically. I've seen her at those moments myself. She screams in agony as they tear at her body."  
  
There was a small disturbance as Hermione's hand slipped and let go of Ron's mouth. Ron immediately went for the interrogation of Dumbledore's story, but Hermione had realized her mistake quickly and fixed it. She clamped down his mouth abruptly. Again, Harry roared with laughter. Hermione and Ron both stared at him, dumbfounded. He returned their gaze.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Harry, it was funny the first time, I know that. But the second time, not so much as the first," Hermione informed him. Ron nodded behind Hermione's hand. He then moved his head to look up at her. He motioned something to her with his hands, but Hermione did not understand. "What do you want now?"  
  
Ron motioned his hands again.  
  
"Oh!" Hermione said, understanding. She shifted her weight so that she sat evenly balanced on both his knees. Ron nodded in appreciation,(his left leg had been going numb), and gestured to Dumbledore to continue.  
  
"Yes, thank you, Mr. Weasley. Now, about the second Oracle; he is her brother. His name is Leo Tiara. His own major power source is the gift of past sight, recalling the past. Under meeting him, you greet him as the Dweller, he who dwells in the past. His ability is different as well, however. He cannot simply reach his body into what has already happened and tell of what he sees like Crystal can with the future. His past sight is a little less accurate; he can only remember what has happened when it happens. Sort of like a never-ending deja vu or an ongoing memory. He knows what will happen about one second before it does.  
  
"But there is more to each Oracle that makes them greater than anyone on earth. Their life energy's are focused on only specific types of spells, making them able to magnify the spells about a hundred times, minus the use of a wand. Both the Wanderer and the Dweller have different spells they focus all their energy into. The Dweller, Leo, channels his life into the self-defense spells; spells used mostly in duels that do not kill. He is quite useful in a battle. But his sister holds a different story.  
  
"Crystal's life channels into the Unforgivable Curses: Imperio, Crucio and Avada Kedavra. That was how she was able to cast one on you Harry. Her knowledge of the Unforgivable Curses is so profound that even the Dark Lord could learn a thing or two from her. In truth, really, she has magnified them to do even more than what their original state was. She need not even mutter the spell for her to cast them. She could simply flick her finger or use her gaze in order to direct her spells to her victim.  
  
"The Oracles of Prodigy also have one more power, yet this one is shared between them. When united together, taking Wanderer and Dweller, bringing past to meet future, their powers combine. In union, they can reveal the Present. If anyone were able to connect them, and place their hands on the Present, they could alter the life of one person alive and one life only. They could change it to whichever path they wish it to take. A power that should never be witnessed."  
  
A silence followed. Harry, Ron and Hermione all looked off into space, thinking hard about what Dumbledore had said. Two people, a brother and sister, cast away because they were so powerful? Burdened by magic too great for anyone to handle, but them? Harry shuddered at the thought of isolation.  
  
"But Professor, why are they kept secret?" Harry asked. Dumbledore did not part his lips to speak, for he did not need too. Hermione answered for him.  
  
"Harry, think! What would someone do if they knew about the Oracles of Prodigy? Someone like You-Know-Who? They could go and try to find them and then probably use their powers, especially the Wanderer's, for their own gain. Or worse! Linking them together to produce the Present? Making someone's life go just how they wanted? Harry, if it wasn't kept a secret, someone could kill them and everyone alive," Hermione announced. She stopped to take a breath.  
  
"Hermione, take your hand away. It looks like Ron wants to say something."  
  
"What?" She looked down at him. "Oh, right." She withdrew her hand. Ron moved his head around Hermione's torso so he could see Dumbledore clearly.  
  
"So what about me? Why did she slash me? And Hermione, when she...what was it again? Oh yeah, stabbed her with that light and show herself dead? What's up with that?" he protested. Hermione waited for the Headmaster's answer, one that she, herself, anticipated greatly.  
  
"That," he said, "is something I think you should ask her for yourself."  
  
"What?! How?!"  
  
"Yes. I have arranged a meeting with the Oracles to have them meet you three. It is a rare opportunity that I ask you to take."  
  
"Why do you want us to go to them?" Harry inquired. "I thought they were banished to a different universe; to Enol or something."  
  
"You are correct, Harry," Dumbledore confirmed. "But I need Crystal to take a long hard look on your future. The Dark Lord is on the move again, and I am taking no risks with your life in particular. I need to have some idea of what is in store for you."  
  
"And we're the only one's who know about them?" Ron questioned. "But that only makes four. You, sir, Harry, Hermione, me and-"  
  
"And someone else who I will not say. Now, let me tell you this last piece of information before I have to go; I have to have a talk with Professor McGonagall. We will not be able to see them until next year in January. That is a fair time from now. I must warn you that Crystal will not stop playing her games with you, doing things and casting spells.  
  
"She might have felt sorry after what she did to Harry, but she won't stop. It's just her way of fun. If I could, I would stop her myself, but I can't. Just be sure that if anything odd happens, it most likely is her doing. Do not panic and just do everything she says, trust me." He got up and walked swiftly to the doorway. "I am sorry for leaving so soon, but I must now. If any of you have anymore questions about them, feel free to come and see me. And remember, do not breathe a word about this to anyone." And with that he left the room, leaving behind a bewildered pause.  
  
"Okay, that was unexpected," Ron said. He looked up at Hermione. "Am I that comfortable as furniture or are you just sitting on me because you love me so much?!" he asked angrily.  
  
"No," Hermione said, standing up. "You make better furniture; furniture doesn't talk!"  
  
****  
  
Two weeks, five days, four hours, three minutes and two seconds; that was how long it had been since Dumbledore had mentioned the Oracles of Prodigy. It had also been that same time length since Crystal, the Wanderer, cast the Cruciatus Curse on Harry. It seemed, for the moment, that she had temporarily lost interest in them. But Hermione wouldn't stop counting the days that went by.  
  
All hours of each day her thoughts were occupied by them, wondering what they looked like, about their powers and how they handled them. She had even spent extra hours in the library reading about foresight and past sight. Hermione had never really believed in such things as seeing the future, why else would she have dropped Divination? But Crystal had sounded like the real thing, and Hermione did not want to meet her without some knowledge on the subject first.  
  
Soon, however, the Oracles became something of an obsession with her. She wanted to know as much about them as she could. Of course, though, there were no books on them anywhere, due to their secrecy; but Hermione had still spent many a late night pouring over pages and pages about self- defense spells, the Unforgivable Curses and the like. Her schoolwork did not suffer in the slightest, yet her own physical condition did. She was lacking too many hours of sleep and the food she should have been consuming wouldn't even satisfy the smallest creature alive.  
  
Harry and Ron tried not to notice Hermione's condition, she never did take well to anyone who told her to do anything against her will. But by the time the third week rolled by and the first Hogsmeade visit came, the two boys couldn't keep themselves from interfering with her.  
  
"Hermione, you look awful," Ron said at breakfast on Saturday morning.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Hermione, he's right. You've got to stop staying up so late and you need to start eating more!" Harry gestured to her plate, which was completely empty and had no trace of any food ever being placed on it.  
  
"I'm fine! Really, neither of you have to worry about me..." Hermione began to pull a book from her book bag.  
  
"No!" Ron shouted, and reached over the table to knock the tome out of her hands.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione shouted back, staring at him indignantly.  
  
"Hermione, I'm serious when I say you have been reading too much. Look at you, your eyes are going to shrivel up any day now!"  
  
"Ron, don't be stupid. There is nothing wrong with my eyesight. The books aren't hurting them a bit." But Hermione completely contradicted herself when she had to rub them viciously to get the two boys back into focus. "Okay, okay. I admit that I have been going a little overboard. I just hate the fact the-"  
  
"That there's something so big about magic out there and you don't know everything about?" Harry finished for her. Hermione stared at her plate and nodded in scorn.  
  
"You're right Harry. Both of you are right. I've been blowing this out of proportion; but after a nice relaxing day in Hogsmeade I'll be fine again."  
  
"Oh no you won't," Ron said.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Listen," Ron started, glancing at Harry, "me and Potter over here have been talking and we think you need to spend this entire day in your dormitory sleeping and resting. You shouldn't tire yourself with walking around in a village. Hermione, for once listen to us. We want you to get better."  
  
Harry nodded with Ron and looked to Hermione for her answer. She just sat there, to his eyes thinking hard; her eyes were closed and her head was bowed low. But after a good minute or two he wasn't so sure.  
  
"I don't believe it," Ron moaned. "She's fallen asleep. Harry, grab her up, will you?"  
  
Harry stood and heaved Hermione to her feet. She moved along with him, but her eyes stayed closed and she was fairly limp. Swinging her arm across his shoulders, Harry half dragged, half carried her out of the Great Hall, Ron following. Out in the Entrance Hall Hermione fluttered awake.  
  
"Where am I? Oh, Ron. I'm sorry, what were you saying?" she asked, yawning broadly.  
  
"Hermione, go to bed. Please, we beg of you. Harry and I will bring you back mounds of Honeydukes sweets and bottles of butterbeer if only you would please rest!"  
  
Hermione thought mildly of just shutting him up and going into the village, but fatigue was suffocating her and her weariness wouldn't let her fight back.  
  
"All right," she said, standing up herself and relieving Harry of her weight. "Fine. I'll stay behind and sleep."  
  
"Good," Harry said. He steadied her wobble.  
  
"It's okay Harry. I'll make it to Gryffindor on my own. You two go out and bring me back something to eat." She smiled weakly at them and started up the marble staircase.  
  
"Hope you fell better," Harry called to her back.  
  
"Yeah, and no reading!" Ron shouted. Hermione just waved a hand and walked on.  
  
****  
  
Hermione trudged wearily through the halls. It was taking her much longer than usual to get to the Gryffindor Tower and Hermione was certain it wasn't all due to her lack of sleep.  
  
Quite a number of students had gone to Hogsmeade to get away from the castle, but there were still a fair number clogging the corridors, all couples. Hermione groaned as boys and girls of all years passed her, holding hands and giggling madly. She stared at one couple leaning against a statue, deep in conversation and enjoying one another's company.  
  
Wish I had that, Hermione thought, letting it slip from it's encasement. Wait! No I don't!  
  
Clutching her head, Hermione sped on past, retracing the route to Gryffindor. And though she tried to not to admit it, she wished Ron or Harry were there with her, just so that she wouldn't feel so alone in a castle full of people.  
  
****  
  
Crystal stood, once again, in her deserted dungeon. She had graciously agreed with Leo to never again return to her tattered rags, so she was careful to not let her glorious dress touch the damp floor. She was staring into space, watching something.  
  
"I see you, dear friend," she said, her insane tone dripping from every word. "I'm watching you, but you seem...sad."  
  
Crystal cocked her head to one side, almost mockingly. She smiled evilly, her eyes literally burning in delight.  
  
"So, the Granger girl seems cheated out of love, does she? Wand's someone special in her life, does she? Longs to be loved as well, does she? Well, as her new best friend, I have to do something about this. Let me see, let me see-" She spun around in a circle, chanting to herself like a little girl. "What to do...what to do..." She stopped.  
  
"I know," she said, but her voice was much more different than before. It had transformed into almost a growl, full of fire and burning with darkness.  
  
"Let us put my powers to the test, shall we? I'm not all about pain, you know. I can love too." She then raised her arms and wove them in front of herself. A sphere of light appeared then, revealing a certain Hermione Granger in its mist. Crystal laughed and jumped up and down, clapping at herself.  
  
"Oh, let us try a Love Spell, shall we?" Her smile broadened, her eyes now glowing blood red. "But we'll be doing it differently. We'll do it my way..." And then Crystal narrowed her eyes down, concentrating hard on her magic; she would be throwing her power surge to another universe again, yet much more this time. She had to focus.  
  
The Wanderer opened her mouth, and as Hermione Granger went on with her life, Crystal Tiara recited the incantation to her spell...  
  
"Love comes with  
  
Through open a heart.  
  
Golden by glance,  
  
And in Life claims its part..."  
  
Hermione pushed the portrait open, hoping to escape the giggles and cuddling that was choking the outside hall, but when she entered the common room there was no relief. Every Gryffindor except Harry and Ron were crammed in; and everyone had someone else. It was sickening to Hermione, yet painfully appealing.  
  
"This is stupid," she muttered. She strode across the room, past Seamus and Lavender, past Dean and Parvati, past Neville and his picture of a girl.  
  
"Your love is golden," he cooed to his picture. Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust.  
  
"Now how am I to sleep with that image plastered in my mind?" she mumbled to herself.  
  
"Their young eyes now see  
  
What their hearts desire,  
  
And deep within them  
  
Love strikes up its fire..."  
  
Hermione trotted up the steps to her dorm, shaking her head all the way.  
  
"They've all seemed to found someone," she murmured. She pursued that thought no longer and pushed back the oak door to her dorm room.  
  
"Yet one stands alone,  
  
Gone from grasp of the heart.  
  
She sees not Love's play,  
  
And refuses her part..."  
  
"I don't want to 'be in love', not now at least," Hermione said to herself. She plopped onto her bed, staring at the floor. "I don't want it."  
  
She turned to the mirror that stood across the room from her. It was gold around the edges, with a lion engraved at the top. Hermione gazed on at her reflection. So many had asked her if she was 'with' Ron or Harry, all sounding as if that were the logical answer; like that was her part in their life. And every time she had replied with a much annoyed 'no'.  
  
"Because that's not the part I want to play in their life," she said angrily to her reflection. It returned her angry stare. "It looks like I stand alone on this." She pushed herself back over the covers so that she rested her back against her headboard.  
  
"Now the soul cries out  
  
For rejected desires,  
  
Now cometh Love finds loneliness,  
  
To kindle its fire,"  
  
You want it though, something said deep inside of her. You want to be a part of it...  
  
"Shut up!" Hermione yelled back. She pulled the pillow up from beside her and covered her face.  
  
Don't you wish for something more? More than just friendship?  
  
"No!"  
  
But you do! Don't lie to me!  
  
"I'm not!" Suddenly an image of Harry and Ron swam through her mind. Hermione dropped the pillow from her eyes so that the light from the window could wash them out. "That was so cruel," she said to her inner voice.  
  
Don't blame me, you thought of them. You're the one who rejected your desires...  
  
"I don't have any desires! Just shut up!"  
  
"But flames grow great,  
  
Though hidden from the heart.  
  
And now the Lone One acquires  
  
A larger part..."  
  
Hermione suddenly clutched her chest right above her heart. The place beneath her hand was unnaturally warm. It had started from within and was so hot that it stretched out.  
  
"Ah-" Hermione gasped, confusion creeping onto her face. "I-I think my heart is burning!" It sounded stupid even out loud.  
  
Hermione touched her arm; it was warm, but not as much so as where her heart lay.  
  
"Ow!" The heat increased with a blast. Hermione was thrown to her bed by the force of the heat, which never stopped growing.  
  
"All eyes that meet hers  
  
Create her their desire,  
  
And clouded Love comes from within,  
  
To feed Ecstasy's fire..."  
  
Hermione fell out of the bed, the heat ever rising from her chest. So much for relaxing, her mind said. But Hermione was much to busy to listen to it. She dragged herself to the golden mirror and struggled to look at herself in it; the burning was painful now.  
  
As Hermione looked into the eyes of her counterpart she saw something change about it, which was happening to her as well. Her eyes were changing. They were no longer simply brown anymore, but now had flecks of pure, glistening gold in them. This would have been cool if they didn't sear her face.  
  
"What's happening?!" Hermione cried out. Then the gold in her eyes suddenly exploded with light, blinding her to near death. Scared beyond reason, Hermione backed away from her mirror image, grasping her chest where the heat was scorching-  
  
-and then it wasn't. The heat instantly decreased and the blinding gold light vanished; but into thin air. It felt as though her whole body had sucked it in, and it was all lying deep within her. Hermione just sat there for a few minutes, breathing hard and gazing at her reflection...  
  
****  
  
"Crystal! What are you doing!" Leo's enraged cries echoed into her mind. Crystal broke out of her spell trance and looked down at him. He was standing right beside her, looking up at her in complete horror and anger.  
  
"What are you talking about?" she asked innocently.  
  
"Don't play your silly mind games with me! You're doing it again, aren't you? You're intervening, but this time it's that girl! Crystal, what were you thinking?! I'm calling this spell off right now!" Leo raised his hands at the sphere in the air. Nothing happened.  
  
"I haven't done anything wrong," Crystal said, still trying to throw him off her scent.  
  
"Stop lying to me! Lift the spell now or tell me how to do it so I can myself. I'm not full on trusting you right now," Leo spat. Crystal turned her nose up at him playfully.  
  
"Have no idea what you're on about..."  
  
"CRYSTAL! LIFT THE SPELL OR I"LL RESORT TO MY STRONGEST POWERS!" Leo bellowed at her. Crystal turned to her little brother, her ten year old little brother. He was no where near powerful enough to challenger her, his sister, his blood...the first born.  
  
"You can't stop it," Crystal said, finally giving in to his accusation. "I've already completed the incantation. My Love Spell is in affect now."  
  
"You used your Love Spell?" Leo asked, his eyes widening.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But Crystal! How could you do that to her? I liked her, I liked all of them! They seemed like nice people and now you've condemned her to your stupid Love Spell?!"  
  
""It's not stupid," Crystal replied, her voice not angry but extremely stern. "I like this Granger girl as well, and she wanted to be loved. So I helped her. How can that be wrong?!"  
  
"Helped her?!" Leo repeated. Crystal simply nodded. "Crystal, you don't help people! You think you do, but you only bring them grief! Don't you realize what your spell does? Every time a boy will look into her eyes now they will fall in love with her: false love! I know to you it sounds like bliss, but not for her! Your powers are too strong. Her admirers could resort to harmful tactics to gain her, not caring if she wants to belong to them or not.  
  
"Crystal, I've seen you do this horrible spell a thousand times, but you always seem not to notice that your victims suffer terrible consequences! They hide away in fear of those they have looked at, cowering from all people to save themselves from their savage and fake love! Plus, you make it so your spell will last forever; never to be broken by witchcraft or wizardry! She's doomed to an eternity of loneliness, not eternal love!"  
  
Crystal said nothing for a while. She just stared at the sphere of light.  
  
"I don't care," she muttered. Leo furrowed his brow in rage, his own eyes glowing sapphire blue with anger.  
  
"FINE!" he cried, startling even her. He turned to the sphere that showed Hermione. She was sitting by her bed, breathing hard. "If I can't break your spell, I'll make it so it can be broken!" And then he recited his own incantation, interjecting it into the previous spell...  
  
"Though cling to the truth  
  
Comes a hitch in the mend,  
  
For thus break the spell  
  
And the Fire to end.  
  
By True Love do come,  
  
And make True Love there seen,  
  
Release the girl from her cage,  
  
And her life yet then redeem..."  
  
"No, stop! What are you doing?!" Crystal cried, whipping her brother around so she could look at him. His eyes had returned to normal hazel, but the rage still remained.  
  
"I did. I can't believe I was able to actually do it. I could have done it to the other victims as well but I was always too late..." he explained.  
  
"Skip the introduction, Leo, and tell me what you've done!"  
  
"I've created a loophole in the spell. When Hermione lays her eyes on her True Love they will not be affected. And the way the spell can be broken is if her True Love let's the world know that he loves her in turn."  
  
"That's a silly solution. She doesn't have a True Love..." Crystal told him, though sounding unsure.  
  
"Yes she does! Crystal, everyone has a True Love! I don't know how long it will take her to find him, but when she does he can lift your curse!"  
  
Crystal stepped back like Leo had slapped her. He had just called her wondrous spell a curse!  
  
"Leo, that was so cruel of you," she pouted, sounding nothing near being sorry. "Please say you're sorry..."  
  
"No!" Leo answered, close to tears. This time the surprise on Crystal's face was genuine.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Crystal, I'm sick and tired of taking care of you! You're my older sister, I'm not your older brother! Do you know how many times I wish you would care for me once? Tell me you're sorry and hug me like a sister should? But no! I have to watch your every move, making sure you don't kill anyone. I have to arrange the meeting with Dumbledore because you can't handle it. I know the pain from seeing the future has messed up your mind and it's hard to stay alive most of the time, but you used to be able to fight it; you taught me how to fight mine!  
  
"Crystal, for once I won't apologize to you and make you fell all better again. This time I'll wait in my room and wish with all my heart that my sister will come in and give me a hug and take care of me in this god forsaken place!"  
  
With that said, Leo stomped from the dungeon and out the door; and fully, for the first time in her life, Crystal felt terrible about who she was.  
  
****  
  
Hermione sat for a long time, breathing hard and holding her chest. Her head was swimming with crazy thoughts and she was trying to sort out what had happened.  
  
"Well, I'm not going to figure it out sitting here," she said to no one, gasping for more air. She stood up, rather wobbly, and went back to the mirror. She inspected her eyes, just to see what had happened to them when the gold flash came. They had changed. No longer were they their regular brown, but they had gotten a considerable amount lighter, almost gold.  
  
Hermione then checked her whole body, searching for cuts or bruises, any signs of increasing heat, anything. She was perfectly fine; but she felt different. It was as though a giant weight had been heaved onto her shoulders, something like a terrible burden...like a spell.  
  
A spell?  
  
Hermione looked at her reflection again, wondering what had happened; the invisible weight growing. And then suddenly it lifted for just a fraction of a second. It felt as though someone had raised it off her back, giving her relief from it for just a second before it plopped back onto her. She staggered slightly due to the feeling, her face growing in puzzlement and sheer confusion.  
  
"That's odd," she muttered. That one word alone brought back something Dumbledore had said before...'Just be sure that if anything odd happens, it most likely is her doing'.  
  
"So it's the Oracles," Hermione said slowly, realizing the situation. She glanced up, as if expecting to see them hovering there. "What have you done to me now?" she shouted to the ceiling, though not anticipating an answer. She turned back to her reflection, scared.  
  
If the Oracles had anything to do with whatever just occurred...especially the Wanderer...  
  
"Oh no," Hermione whispered. If the Wanderer was involved in this, something horrid had just happened. "Okay, calm down Hermione; you're still in control of yourself. All you have to do is find Harry and Ron and talk to them. Or better yet, go to Dumbledore and tell him about what happened. Okay, that's the plan then."  
  
She breathed in slowly, scared for some reason, and then walked to the oak door of her dorm and pushed it open. She hurried down the staircase, completely forgetting about her sleepiness. When she hit the landing she saw that almost everyone had emptied out of the common room. The only people left were Neville and some other Gryffindor boy who Hermione knew as a seventh year. She simply smiled, grateful for the lack of people and started on her way to the portrait; but there was a small hold up as Neville came to it at the same time.  
  
"Oh, sorry Hermione. Go ahead, you go first," Neville offered, obviously in a good mood.  
  
"Why thank you Neville," Hermione said, trying to sound grateful in spite of her mission. In her hurry to push open the portrait hole her wand fell out from it's place in her waistband.  
  
"Hermione wait, you dropped this," Neville said, bending down to pick it up. Hermione turned around to grab it from him.  
  
"Thanks again," she said, taking it from his hands. He looked up at her...directly into her eyes. Hermione gasped. Neville's eyes flashed a brief gold before returning to their normal color, but the expression on his face stayed altered. He was looking at her in a dreamy way, smiling stupidly and trembling all over.  
  
"Y-you're welcome, Hermione." He said her name with a sigh and just gazed at her.  
  
"Er-Neville, you can let go of my hand now."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Neville, let go," Hermione said gently, trying to tug out of his grasp.  
  
"Oh Hermione!" he suddenly cried, flinging himself to her feet.  
  
"What are you doing?" Hermione said, panicked. He looked up at her, still grinning like a dork.  
  
"Hermione, you're my everything. I want to be with you always. You're like the sun shining in my room in the morning! You're like the moon gazing down upon me at night! You're like the stars winking at me when I'm sad! Hermione, I love you! Will you be mine?" he said, his eyes looking longingly at her. Hermione drew back in shock.  
  
"What?" she asked, close to disgust. Neville scrambled to his feet and took her hands in his, looking almost hurt that she was drawing away.  
  
"Please don't be frightened my dear! I know my sudden outburst of love for you is sudden, but if you think about it I'm much better for you than Ron or Harry!"  
  
"What?!" Hermione repeated, lost for words. "'My dear'? Neville, what's wrong with you?"  
"Love, my dearest Hermione. I've been consumed in your beauty and love!" He waved his arms about, looking like a crippled bird.  
  
"Um, okay. Neville you're scaring me and I need to be somewhere right now, so I'm going to leave now," she said, watching him dance strangely about the room. Hermione left the common room quickly.  
  
"Oh. My. Gosh. That was...I don't know what that was, but it's definitely something I can't deal with right now," Hermione said to herself, striding down the corridor. She hurried forward, trying hard to get to Dumbledore's office so she could figure everything out, but that event with Neville was still nagging her. Why had his eyes flashed like that?  
  
Hermione turned the corner and groaned with growing annoyance. She had come out in the middle of a hallway which was packed to the rim with students, some just hanging out as friends and others more than friends. Hermione turned to her left and saw that the path she needed to take to Dumbledore's office consumed much more couples than friends, making her roll her eyes in anger.  
  
"Okay, just walk on past with a smile in place and you'll be fine," she said to herself. Hermione tried to look regular, smiling just a tad and straightening up. She started off down the hall. She looked all around, nodding to girls she knew and smiling kindly at the boys; but the boys were doing more than just smiling back. As it had done with Neville, all their eyes flashed a faint gold and they stared on at her in wonder and awe. Trying not notice this Hermione walked on, but footsteps were following and matching hers. Confused, Hermione turned around to see who was following her, never stopping her walking. Her eyes widened once again in surprise.  
  
Every single male student in the hallway that she had passed was tailing behind her. They gazed at her in the same way Neville did; goofy and dreamily. Hermione quickened her pace, trying not to look too scared.  
  
"Umm-hi. What are you doing?" she said, taking a stab at conversation so as to get them away. All the boys just sighed in unison at the sound of her voice. Hermione flinched a little at this, it was a bit creepy. She walked faster, but they all matched her pace; actually, they did more than match it, they were soon crowding so close to her. Hermione could here the now lonely girls calling to the boys, but they were deaf to their calls. They were too immersed in...her!  
  
"Okay, now you're all just scaring me. Please step back," she said, much more firmly. She pushed back a Ravenclaw boy with brown hair and blue eyes. When she touched him he yelped in excitement and melted to the ground.  
  
"She touched me," he almost sang, his face on cloud nine. "She actually touched me! Wow..."  
  
And then all the boys crowded in around her, trying to touch the hem of her robes or the tips of her hair. They cooed mushy, lovey-dovey remarks and started offering her their hearts in turn for her love.  
  
"-I'll love you always Hermione!"  
  
"-but I could offer you -"  
  
"-I could offer you the world! The world plus-"  
  
"Pick me!"  
  
"Can I touch your shoes?"  
  
"Can I brush your hair?"  
  
"Could I do your homework?"  
  
"Could you push me too?"  
  
"I love you!"  
  
That was when Hermione was fully scared stiff and she didn't care in the slightest whether or not she was polite to them. She broke out in a full on run, dashing down the hall and calling behind her back, "Go away!"  
  
"But Hermione, we love you!!!"  
  
She kept on running, hurrying around the corner and practically falling down the staircase. She darted around the corner, finally losing her mob of crazy admirers. But Hermione wouldn't stop running. Something wasn't right here.  
  
Hermione stopped behind one shadowy corner and pressed herself behind it, taking in a long, deep breath. Why, suddenly, were all these boys falling in...'love' with her? She knew it had to do with what happened earlier; Hermione was the cleverest witch at Hogwarts.  
  
"I need to have a serious talk with Dumbledore about this. I think that every time I look at a boy they," she gulped, embarrassed and freaked out, "they fall in love with me. Creepy love. I have to steer clear of any boy..." She shook her head.  
  
Hermione listened closely for any footsteps down the hall; but to her ears she heard none. She couldn't hear the faint steps of a Slytherin coming her way.  
  
"Okay. The hallway is clear. I'll just run all the way to the Headmaster's office and not look up at anyone." She took another calming breath, making ready to run like the wind. The Slytherin coming to her hideout increased speed down the hallway as well. Hermione checked to make sure her wand was secure; the tall, blonde Slytherin was just a few feet from her hidden corner, coming closer faster and faster. Hermione ran out from her hiding place and the Slytherin boy pulled into a run at the exact same time...  
  
CRASH!  
  
Hermione ran full on into a speeding Malfoy. The outcome was one that was much more painful. Hermione was lying flat on her back, not being the stronger of the two to knock the other down. Malfoy, completely not expecting what had happened, lay face down on the floor on top of Hermione. Both of their eyes were closed and they lay and groaned in pain for awhile, neither realizing the position they were in.  
  
Soon, however, Draco placed his hands on the stone floor on either side of Hermione and pushed up his upper body to see who had banged into him. He gazed down upon a bedraggled Granger, her hair fanned out about her and her eyes closed, wincing in pain.  
  
"Granger! What did you do?!" Draco cried, not getting up off her and by far not caring too until she answered him.  
  
"Malfoy?" she muttered, not yet coming back to reality.  
  
"Granger, you banged into me again you dirty Mudblood! What were you doing anyways? Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" he shouted, but he didn't touch her. The uncomfortably of his position was just dawning on him.  
  
"I'm-I'm sorry. I was in a hurry and..." Hermione stopped and groaned. Slowly, ever so slowly, she opened her eyes; not remembering what would happen if Malfoy looked into them. But he wasn't looking in her face at that moment. Weakened by the collision, his arms weren't fit to support his weight and he fell upon Hermione again, knocking the wind out of her. She gasped rapidly.  
  
"Malfoy-" she sputtered. "Malfoy, get off!" Draco mumbled against her neck and pushed himself up again.  
  
"That was one heck of a crash," he half whispered, closing his eyes to fight the pain. Hermione looked up at him and waited until he was done moaning.  
  
"Malfoy," she began.  
  
"What do you want know Mudblood?!" he said through clenched teeth, still not opening his eyes.  
  
"Get off me."  
  
Draco lifted his eye lids...but didn't look her in the face. His eyes travel over his own body and who he was on top of and jumped up rather quickly.  
  
"Uh...um.." he stuttered. Hermione had never heard Malfoy stutter before; then again, he had never been on top of her before either. She listened to him blubber on as she picked herself up off the ground.  
  
"It's okay Malfoy," she told him, though wondering why. "Just don't apologize." She had straightened up now and looked him full on in the eyes. Right from when she saw the first glimmer of gold she regretted even getting up.  
  
Draco had locked eyes with hers, staring at her in mixed confusion. His face was no longer angry and pained but furrowed and confused. This reaction bewildered Hermione as well. Why wasn't he going crazy and telling her he loved her like the rest?  
  
Then Hermione understood the answer; his face showed it all. Being her mortal enemy the spell of her gaze was struggling madly with his hatred for her. Hermione knew that it would take at least a few minutes for the spell to kick in; but she didn't want to stick around and wait until it did.  
  
Hermione tried to slip past his side like before, hoping that this time she could make it beyond him; but like before his arm shot out and he grabbed her, but gently. Hermione just stiffened as he pulled her towards him. He looked at her and Hermione turned away from the longing in his eyes; their faces were less than an inch from each other.  
  
"Granger...Hermione..." he whispered softly. When he said her name, Hermione loosened a little. He said it so...nicely?  
  
"No!" she shouted, pulling out of his grasp and backing away. What was she thinking? She had just made Malfoy fall in love with her! This was not good, not good at all. "Malfoy, no. Stay there..." she said. But this command was to no obedience.  
  
Draco simply did the opposite of her request. He rushed towards her and pushed her up against the wall. Hermione was in shock.  
  
"What are you doing?!" she demanded. Malfoy said nothing. He simply looked at her, his head tilted to one side. He had nothing of the goofy, dreamy look on his face like the other boys; Hermione guessed that even under a spell he wouldn't be caught so undignified. Instead, his features stayed set but his eyes looked at her with a passion of love, not hatred. He went on with his silence, but now he was stroking her hair with a gentle hand and breathing in her aroma.  
  
"Oh my God!" Hermione cried angrily, losing all sense. With all the strength she could muster, Hermione pushed Draco back. He fumbled back and watched her in admiration with a sprinkle of sadness. Hermione only had time enough to cast him one disgusted and horrified glance before she ran away from him, fast.  
  
No longer was she going to Dumbledore, oh no. Who knew what the spell could do to him? Hermione shuddered at the thought. Doors and windows whipped past her as she ran on. Now she knew for sure that Crystal was involved with the lovesick boys everywhere she went; only extremely powerful magic could Malfoy fall in love with her. So where could Hermione go that she knew no boy would follow or find her? Where was a place she was certain to be left alone to figure things out? And then the answer snapped into her, and Hermione changed her course for the library.  
  
****  
  
When her tiny figure stood from the ground and looked him in the eyes, Draco Malfoy felt something strange. First off a bright, golden light had sparked in front of him, but then as he gazed at her stare it was like he was being pulled into her. He had seen far more than he had ever seen in his life. Suddenly her hair began to glow and her skin radiated with light. He blessed her simple smile and her nimble hands. Draco was in full-fledged love! In love with Hermione Granger!  
  
The feeling was wonderful, but yet had a tinge of unreality; but he didn't care. All he wanted was to hold her and have her hold him in return. As he gave over his mind to her gaze a searing and unimaginable pain shot up through his arm and penetrated his thoughts of love.  
  
You hate this girl!, something said deep from within. You can't love her...she's a-  
  
Love her.  
  
No! You're rising her out of her lowered position! Kill her! You said you would the next time she touched you and I want you to kill her! To Draco that voiced sounded oddly like his father's.  
  
Just love her. This voice was anonymous to Draco, but its tone was much more firm and clear than the other.  
  
Kill her! Kill her-  
  
Love her! This voice was almost playful.  
  
Kill-Love-to kill-or to love...obey his father's voice or the other's...to love her or to kill her...  
  
The struggle must have shone on his face because when he looked at Hermione she was both frightened and confused. He saw her as she tried to slip past him, trying to escape him...  
  
Love her first...  
  
The other voice took over and Draco shot out his hand to stop her. He brought her close, just enjoying that fact that he was here with her, and no one was around to take her away.  
  
"Granger..." he had said. "Hermione..." Her name was like music to him.  
  
"No!" was her reply. She had pushed him away, obviously scared; but of what? He only loved her.  
  
He rushed to her, pinning on the wall so she wouldn't run away. Draco looked at her, stroking her silken hair and inhaling her pure scent. He wanted to stay like this forever...  
  
"AHHH!!" Hermione had yelled, pushing him back. She shot him one horrified look and ran away, away from him. Draco didn't call to her and didn't chase her. He just watched as her black robes flew out behind her, watching her down the hall...  
  
And when she had disappeared around a corner Draco did something he thought he would have ever done in his life  
  
****  
  
Hermione fell into a chair by a table in the library. She was well in the back of it, completely hidden from anyone in the Invisibility section. She took a while to slow her beating heart and sort out her confused thoughts.  
  
"Now I'm certain that my stare makes boys go head over heels in love," she said. "I can't believe Malfoy actually....but he didn't know what he was doing. But still he-" She fidgeted a little. Malfoy stroking her hair? Smelling her? It was so gross and Hermione failed a disgusted shiver.  
  
"When this is all over I need to take a shower," she promised herself. "Oh no," she started again, realizing something. "I can't exactly go and meet Harry and Ron when they come back from Hogsmeade! I can't have my two best friends going crazy over some spell." Then Hermione looked to the heavens again, as if staring accusingly at the Oracle who had cast the curse.  
  
"Why are you doing this to me? What do you want of me? Why do you hate me so?!"  
  
"I don't hate you," Crystal answered back. Hermione's jawed dropped as reaction to the reply.  
  
****  
  
Crystal watched sadly as Hermione broke from Malfoy's grip and to the library. She stared, transfixed, as she hid in the back of the room and collapsed in the Invisibility section. The words Leo had beat her with hung heavily in the air around Crystal. She scorned at her own carelessness.  
  
Since Leo had left, Crystal's true mind, the one uncorrupted by her power, had returned in all its glory. For the first time since she had received her gift, Crystal took a long look at her victim; past the admirers and the shadow cast by the spell. When she did she saw the pained expression on Hermione's face. Saw the fear that everyone was inflicting on her. She had to save her from it.  
  
But how? Like Leo had said, the spell was unbreakable, even for the maker of it. But Leo had put in his own magic so her True Love could come by, express his love for her and break it. But who in all of the wizarding world was her True Love? How was either of them going to find him?  
  
"But I've got to try," Crystal said, looking at the accusing face Hermione was casting in the sphere of light. She really did like Hermione, and she was shamed for trying to interfere with her life.  
  
"Why are you doing this to me? What do you want of me? Why do you hate me so?" Crystal heard her scream. Using all of her mental energy, Crystal sat down and projected her voice.  
  
"I don't hate you," she answered. She watched as Hermione dropped her jaw in shock.  
  
****  
  
"Who...who said that?" Hermione asked tentatively, looking around herself.  
  
"Me," came the voice echoing in her head, and it wasn't Hermione's inner voice.  
  
"Who's me?" Hermione asked slowly, noticing that the speaker was female. There was a saddened sigh before the answer came.  
  
"I am the Wanderer."  
  
Silence. Hermione was first struck with the fact that this must be a joke. Then she understood that how could it be? Crystal the Wanderer was speaking to her. This was amazing! But then she remembered what she had done to her, casting her spell, and Hermione was mad. But she didn't want to accuse someone of such high importance in magic of something until she was certain it was her.  
  
"It was me," Crystal answered back. "I was the one who cast the spell on you. I condemned every boy you look at to fall in love with you. You have every right to be angry at me." Hermione was surprised that she knew what she was thinking and that she actually sounded sorry for her.  
  
"How did you-"  
  
"I have many powers," was all Crystal said.  
  
"I thank you for apologizing," Hermione said, forgetting her furious anger and aiming for a friendly accusation. "But why did you do the spell in the first place?"  
  
"I was watching you and saw that you felt lonely. I was just trying to do you a favor." In her mind Hermione heard her laugh slightly at herself. "But that's not what I do, is it? I just hurt people....like Leo said..."  
  
"But you don't have to!" Hermione cried, glad no one was in the library to hear her talk to herself. "If you lift the spell you'll be helping me! You can do it, you created it and you put it on me. Please! I can't go around either having every boy fall head over heels on me or never looking at anybody again." Hermione waited anxiously; but the pause that followed was much too long for her to keep her hopes up.  
  
"I can't," Crystal finally said. Hermione banged her fist into the table in frustration.  
  
"What?! Why not?!"  
  
"The spell I cast is-no, was a permanent spell; never to be broken."  
  
"Oh my god," Hermione said softly, placing her head in her hands. "Oh my god, oh my god..."  
  
"But there is a way to lift it!" Crystal said hurriedly. Hermione snapped back up.  
  
"How?"  
  
"My brother, Leo, put in his own special magic when I cast the spell," Crystal explained. "He made it so that if your True Love comes to you and makes his love known, then the spell will rise and erase all the doings that it had caused."  
  
"Wait, True Love? I have to find my True Love?! I don't have one! Now I'll be stuck like this forever," Hermione groaned. She only half listened as Crystal made a noise to talk but then she shut her mouth quickly.  
  
"Hermione, get out of the library!" she said frantically. Scared, Hermione stood up fast and looked around.  
  
"Why? What's happening?"  
  
"Trust me, get out of there. Quick, he's coming closer!"  
  
Hermione was too frightened to go anywhere. She moved up against the far wall.  
  
"Who? Who?!"  
  
"Hurry! Get out before he comes to you." Crystal stared at her sphere as it showed the boy coming stealthily towards Hermione. Crystal knew, as she always does, that their encounter was one they did not have time for.  
  
"Who is it, who is it???" Hermione whined, close to tears. This wasn't funny and fear was growing rapidly in the pit of her stomach..  
  
"He's coming. Get out before it's too late!"  
  
"Oh my goodness!" Hermione panicked, pressing herself farther against the wall.  
  
"Get out!  
  
"I can't!"  
  
"Now!"  
  
"I'm scared!"  
  
"Too late." And then Crystal watched as the boy came around the bookshelf to where Hermione stood. Hermione, herself, stifled a cry as he walked to her. It was...  
  
****  
  
"What are you doing here?" Hermione shot angrily. This was the last person she wanted to see right now, considering the state she had just put him in. Her mysterious admirer just stood between the two bookshelves, blocking her escape; he said nothing. His black school robes rippled slightly, either from an inexistent wind or a shiver from his body.  
  
"What is he doing?" Crystal asked in Hermione's head.  
  
"I don't know, he's just looking at me," she whispered back, barely moving her lips. Though her onlooker was under a spell, she didn't want him to think she was crazy by talking to herself.  
  
"Try and get away," the Wanderer suggested. As Hermione considered a way of escape Crystal backed away a little from the her light sphere. This was so awkward, she was actually being nice and...thinking of the safety of someone other than herself.  
  
"I'll ponder on about my actions later," Crystal said to herself, shaking her head. "First I have to make what is wrong right and help Hermione." She turned back to her ball of swirling light and air. Hermione was still backed against the wall, searching for a way past her blocker. Crystal's vision of the boy was obscured by the moving air in the sphere.  
  
Hermione found a little opening to his right and chanced a step forward. This was the worst mistake to make at this moment. The boy took a strong step to her in turn and Hermione backed away quickly. After his sudden action he did not move; Draco Malfoy just stood there, staring. His grey eyes weren't completely blank, yet they did not contain the slight golden hue that all the other boys possessed. Instead, Hermione could have sworn she saw some blue in there.  
  
"What do I do now?" she whispered to Crystal. Crystal had no idea.  
  
"Just get out of there," she said. "We have to find a way to break the spe-I mean curse that I bestowed upon you." She waited with bated breath as Hermione took a deep breath and proceeded forward again. The moment after her first step went on for what seemed like hours.  
  
Hermione locked eyes with Draco, trying to signify that she had no time to listen to his ramblings; yet she couldn't forget the death threat he had placed before. His eyes may have been close to blank, but his face was different.  
  
The scowl he had permanently etched into his features lingered, but more to it now were three very different emotions: hatred, confusion and love. He was fighting against something inside of him again. He gazed down to her, watching her every move. His eyes were narrowed and Hermione felt a chill run up her spine. All this happened in just a second, yet to her it felt like days. Then time continued with its regular pace.  
  
After she had placed one foot forward Draco rushed to her again! But this time was different. He jammed her up against the stone wall again and pinned her shoulders with both his hands. Hermione was frightened this time. The look he had now and the way he moved now was different; she wasn't sure if was going to act loving or try and fulfill his prophecy of her death.  
  
"What are you doing now?" she whispered, staring him hard in the eyes. Of course, Malfoy didn't answer. He bore her with his stare, moving closer by the second. He was a few inches from her face, a few centimeters; then only wind was able to move between them.  
  
Oh no, Hermione thought frantically. He's either close enough to kiss me or to kill me!  
  
Silence as Draco stared hard. Hermione was still with fear. The seconds ticked by, and the remaining space shared between them grew smaller by the minute...  
  
Then Draco grabbed the sleeve of his robe on his left arm and yanked them down, revealing to Hermione the jet-black symbol burned into his flesh. The hollow eyes of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth glared at her as she looked on. Draco looked at it too, and then both returned their gaze to each other.  
  
"Help me," he said, barely above a whisper.  
  
Hermione didn't take the time to consider what he had meant, nor did she stay and find out. She wasn't sure what had happened and why he had come to her like that. All that she had racing through her mind was that she was alone with Draco Malfoy, archenemy to her and her friends, pinned against a lone wall by his body and him holding the Dark Mark to her face. She couldn't handle this...any of this.  
  
"I can't," was all she had time for. Then Hermione ducked under his arm and ran again, but this time the fear was true, and she didn't even have time to cast Draco a final glance; not even the pained look of sympathy she held for him.  
  
****  
  
Sitting alone in the middle of the dungeon, the ball of swirling light hovering before her, Crystal sat very still, not even blinking. She had just witnessed the occurrence in the library between Hermione Granger and one Draco Malfoy. It was hard to tell how the meeting shared by them affected the Wanderer; but it couldn't have been good.  
  
She did not move at all. She did not even seem to draw breath. She just sat completely still, staring hard at the sphere. Her brow was furrowed and her navy blue eyes shone with confusion so pure that she looked almost oblivious. Her mouth was slightly open and the sound of her still breath was rattled. Then, after many minutes of torturous silence she spoke.  
  
"That wasn't supposed to happen."  
  
****  
  
"What was all that about?" Hermione asked herself as she jogged lightly down the halls. She shook her head, trying not to recall the incident in the library. "No, can't think about that yet. First off I have to figure out how to lift this spell. Then I'll have time to help Dra- " she trailed away, not wanting to give in to her pity for Malfoy.  
  
Hermione slid around the end of the corridor and made sure the staircase on the other side was safe. To her great relief it was deserted.  
  
"Wanderer. Wanderer, where are you? Crystal, answer me! Where did you go?" Hermione prompted, wondering where she was. It took a few seconds for the Oracle on the other side to answer.  
  
"I'm sorry, just fell out of it for a minute. Okay, what do we do first?"  
  
"First we try and lift the spell," Hermione said, creeping silently down the stairs. "That way everything that has happened, everyone I've affected, will be erased, right?"  
  
"Yes," Crystal answered. "When True Love is announced then every other false love towards you will be forgotten for an eternity; or so Leo has made it to be."  
  
"Okay. Then after we've cleared all of this from everybody's mind I'll know if Malfoy was sincere about wanting help or if it was just the spell."  
  
Crystal did not acknowledge this, she couldn't tell Hermione that he wasn't suppose to do that; it wasn't even supposed to be foreseen by her for him to do so...  
  
"Wait," Hermione said, remembering something and leaning against the wall. She couldn't even help but suppress the laugh that escaped her lips. "We can't break the spell, I have forgotten." She slid to the floor in defeat. "I need to have my true Love come by, don't I?" She flung her arms out dramatically, mocking a princess in distress. "And then he has to announce his undying love for me and all evil that has been will be no more! It's like a fairy tale..."  
  
"Hermione, wait..."  
  
"But this isn't a fairy tale. I don't have a True Love; and even if I do I probably won't see him for a few years. But no worries! I'll just lock myself in my dorm forever and then chance to come out, hoping he'll be standing outside of my door!"  
  
"Hermione!" Crystal exclaimed, trying to express her knowledge. "You have a True Love!"  
  
"No I don't," she said back, not even pausing to really listen to her.  
  
"Yes you do! Hermione, listen! You do. You have one and you're going to go to him right now."  
  
Hermione leaned her throbbing head against the cold stone wall. She wasn't in the mood for jokes right now and she needed to find someone to break the spell.  
  
"Who then? Who is my knight in shining armor?" she asked, humoring the Oracle's statement.  
  
"Harry Potter or Ronald Weasley."  
  
In light of the day she had just had Hermione burst into hysterics and fell flat on the floor laughing hard. Harry or Ron? One of them being her Love; True Love? It couldn't be, would never be! But there was still that feeling of hope and happiness that it could be.  
  
"What? Harry and Ron? Crystal, I know you've been watching us, but we're not like that. None of us," Hermione said, sitting back up.  
  
"Hermione, listen to me and just trust me on this. I've seen you, yes. But I'm thinking I see more than any of you do. You have known each other for years now, sharing experiences that no one will ever have; death, life and pure evil? You all have always been there to save each other, feelings growing at surprising rates. All three of you have tried to ignore the signs, but there is more than just a crush under all your guises'. One of them is your True Love; I know, I've seen."  
  
Hermione actually took the time to think on this. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the one who was saving the world from You-Know-Who every year on a regular bases. Staying by her side and still being her friend when no else would believe her. Her True Love???  
  
Ronald Weasley, the one who she always took joy in fighting with and then making up as friends once more; who was always at her side as well, defending her with his rage and always apologizing in the end for his actions. Her True Love???  
  
Her best friends???  
  
"Okay, let's just say that maybe one of them could be, what do we do then? Just go up to them and ask if they truly love me? I doubt they'll ever admit it even if they somehow do. So, how will we tell?"  
  
"There is a catch, 'a hitch in the mend' as Leo put it. When your Love looks into your eyes he will not be affected in any way. His love will be much too pure and real to become altered by a mere spell."  
  
"So nothing will happen basically?" Hermione sort of liked this idea. If one of them was her Love, then she wouldn't have to isolate herself from both. "Okay," she finally said, getting up off the floor and dusting her robes. "I'll do it. I'll look them both in the eye and see who it is, but what if it isn't either?"  
  
Crystal didn't answer right away.  
  
"Just keep hoping one of them is. Now, let me see where they are right now..." She waved her hands again so the sphere shimmered and then showed Harry and Ron.  
  
"You're powers sound fascinating, just wanting something to happen and then doing it. I can't wait to learn more about you," Hermione said as she waited for Crystal's report. The Wanderer smiled a little for the flattery. Then her light revealed the location of the two boys.  
  
"Oh good! Hermione, they're on their way back to the castle right now, just leaving Hogsmeade. Hurry and go try and meet them."  
  
Nodding to absolutely no one, Hermione walked hurriedly down the corridor to the marble staircase leading to the Entrance Hall. And with all her might she hoped that at least one of them could be True to her. It wouldn't help her situation any more if they were both under her spell.  
  
"Then I'd have to spend my time beating them away and no time figuring everything out."  
  
****  
  
There, in the doorway of the great oak doors. Ron's vivid Weasley hair shone brightly in the setting sun. His back was to the Entrance Hall and he was watching something outside. Hermione took a breath deep as she looked down upon him from the top of the stairs.  
  
"Okay, if I look at him and nothing happens then he's my...True Love. Uhh...yeah. Then I just won't look at Harry. But if he becomes like the others than I'll turn tail and run to Harry. Oh goodness, this is pointless," she said, trying to calm her nerves. Though why she had any Hermione was clueless.  
  
"Hurry up so we can find out which one loves you," Crystal prompted casually. Hermione adopted an annoyed look.  
  
"Easy for you to say."  
  
"Yes it is," Crystal said, smiling and making Hermione laugh.  
  
"Both of them will because neither of them is my Love; so they'll be affected. This is useless, something will happen, not nothing." But Hermione trotted down the staircase nonetheless.  
  
She had barely set one foot down when Ron turned around, laughing. He looked to the staircase and saw Hermione. Due to her extreme distance the spell wouldn't be able to take affect even if they did lock eyes. Ron looked up to her and waved joyously. Hermione managed a weak grin before returning his wave.  
  
"Come on down here Hermione! Harry's trudging behind. Poor Potter, just can't keep up with me anymore," Ron told her. He turned back to the doorway, looking out to the front gates where Harry was running at top speed to the castle. "Ah, come on Harry! It's been ages!"  
  
Harry scowled at him from far off and Ron laughed again. Hermione continued down the steps.  
  
"Wait," the Wanderer said. "Don't look at him yet. Close your eyes or look down until you're right up close to him. Then wait until all his attention is on you before looking up. I want him to get the full blast of the spell if we are to be sure of anything."  
  
Hermione nodded in agreement and bent her head low. She hurried onto the landing, wanting to get this over with as fast as she could. She walked all the way until she saw Ron's feet. She stopped beside him, not looking up.  
  
Ron called to Harry one more time before turning around again. He was surprised to see Hermione beside him.  
  
"Hey Hermione, did you get any rest and relaxation while we were gone?" Ron asked.  
  
"Oh yeah, loads." Hermione tried to hide the sarcasm in her voice.  
  
"You okay?" he questioned, bending down to try and see her face.  
  
"Do it now," Crystal said to Hermione.  
  
Hold on, Hermione answered with a thought, not wanting Ron to know she was talking to the Wanderer.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Are you sure? Hermione, look at me; I can't tell if your paying attention or not." Ron poked her gently, which was always his way of making her listen. Not very loving in Hermione's opinion.  
  
"Ow. Yeah, I am," she answered. "But are you paying attention to me?"  
  
"Trying to, but it's hard when you won't look at me!"  
  
"All your attention?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Hermione, do it now. This boy over here is looking directly at you! Come on!"  
  
Fine.  
  
Hermione clenched her fist and looked up, not looking at anything but the blue of Ron's eyes. She hoped that the sudden blast of the spell would hit him hard, letting her know the truth right away. She waited; even forcing the spell outward to him, if that was possible. But no change came over Ron's face. He just returned her gaze.  
  
"Hermione?" Ron said, barely above a whisper, his eyes starting to look sort of misty.  
  
There! Hermione thought with a bit of triumph. He's caught it! He's not my True Love!  
  
"Yes Ron?" she asked politely, backing away before he pulled a Neville on her.  
  
"Why are you looking at me like that?" He backed away himself, fairly scared by her cold stare.  
  
Huh?  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked, not quite sure of his reaction.  
  
"You're looking murder at me! It's kinda spooky. Are you sure you're all right?"  
  
"Ha! He's not affected! He's your True Love! I knew it! I'm never wrong but you wouldn't listen. Now all he has to do is announce his love and the spell is over! I knew it!" Crystal was practically yelling with the joy at being right. Hermione wasn't fully convinced though.  
  
"Ron, are you feeling...funny?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes at him, yet not letting down her guard. Ron straightened up and lifted an eyebrow at her, puzzled.  
  
"Uh...why?"  
  
Hermione simply stared. She breathed deep, hoping her next question wouldn't seem too strange.  
  
"Ron," she said gently. He smiled uneasily and waited. "Do you...do you love me?" She braced herself, afraid he was going to start singing and hopping around like the others; or else rush her like Malfoy. But Ron did nothing of the sort. Instead he threw his ginger head back and laughed heartily.  
  
"Hermione," he managed, through fits of hysteria, "Hermione, I hate to disappoint you, but I don't-" Burst of laughter, though an uncertain kind. "-I don't love you. As a friend, yes. As something more..." he trailed off, covering up his unease with muffled giggles. And to his great astonishment Hermione stomped her foot on the floor and growled in rage.  
  
"No! No, you have to fall in love with me! You should be dancing around with golden eyes of stupidity and asking me to marry you or something! No...Why did it have to be you?" She breathed deeply, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. Ron's jaw was hanging, clearly exposing his utter bewilderment.  
  
"Don't lie, I can see inside that you're glad it's him," Crystal taunted. But she knew she was right, she just had to convince Hermione.  
  
"Hello?" Ron said, knocking her back to reality. Hermione gave herself a small shake before answering him.  
  
"Sorry Ron, I just lost my head there for a while."  
  
"You're telling me! What was all that about?"  
  
"Oh, that's a long story! But I have to tell you all of it and you have no idea how happy I am to see that you're not goofy and lovey right now. And Harry...well, I can't see him right now because-"  
  
"Why can't you see me right now?" Harry asked, stepping up from behind Ron, grinning. Hermione's eyes widened as she realized that if he saw her he would be completely under her spell! But it was too late to close her eyes, for Harry and just seen her and was looking directly in them.  
  
"Harry, no!" she tried to yell, but it was far too late. By now he was totally consumed in the cursed spell.  
  
"Uh oh," Hermione heard Crystal say, but she didn't know why.  
  
"What is it?" she asked, looking away from Harry.  
  
"This is so bad. Stupid Potter! You had to come and ruin everything!" Crystal cried, scolding Harry from her dungeon. "And you Ron! Why did she have to see you first?! This is absurd, I need Leo. Hermione, your situation just got worse."  
  
How?  
  
"Hermione, what's the matter?" Harry's deep voice broke in. Still confused by Crystal's outraged yells, Hermione stepped back a little.  
  
"What?" Then she noticed Harry walking towards her and half ran, half tripped, into the banister to try and get away from him. "No Harry, stay there!" She needed to talk to Ron right now and explain the whole Love spell and how to lift it.  
  
"I'm no dog Hermione, I just want to know why you yelled at me," Harry told her, his emerald eyes very confused behind his glasses. "What is wrong with you?"  
  
"No, the question is what is wrong with you! Stay back and don't try anything funny!"  
  
"Hermione! Get a grip on yourself! What are you talking about?" Harry was furious for her lack of politeness and total abandon of the normal Hermione.  
  
"What I'm talking about, Potter, is that I know you think you're in love with me but I can't deal with you right now!" Why did she have to explain this to him? The spell should have taken care of it. She had to speak with Ron.  
  
"Okay, first of all you never call me Potter. Second, what? I'm not in love with you! What is she talking about Ron?" Harry turned to his best friend for an explanation. But of course this was useless, as Ron never really does know anything of importance.  
  
Crystal, Hermione thought, calling for some consolation. Why isn't he acting funny?  
  
"Because he's not affected," Crystal said angrily. She rolled her eyes in frustration.  
  
What? Why not?!  
  
"I told you," Crystal answered. "I said that you situation just got worse. Hermione, you are in this way too deep."  
  
Just tell me what I need to know before Harry goes Broadway on me, Hermione shot back.  
  
"He won't."  
  
And why is that?  
  
Crystal fell on her back, restless. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, obviously stalling a little before speaking. "You really want to know?"  
  
Of course!  
  
A pause. Crystal covered her face with her hands. "Because he's your True Love too."  
  
That was when Hermione fell to the floor in a disgruntled heap, physically tired of all this confusion. This was going to be one heck of a long day.  
  
**** A/N: Hey people who are kind enough to actually read my story! Okay, so I know this story starts out terrible. When I was writing it, it sounded so great! Then I read it over and it sounded terrible. But not to worry! I swear it gets better. In the next chapter: Ron and Harry are both Hermione's True Love? That can't be right. Plus, the mystery on Malfoy grows greater and some pretty weird things happen, including a scary little surprise for one, Ronald Weasley!!! 


	4. How Do I Love Thee

Chapter Four ~ How Do I Love Thee.  
  
Draco writhed in pain on the floor of his dorm room. The Dark Mark was burning madly, and it didn't seem to want to stop. He had tried yelling for help but no words could escape him; all of his attention was focused on the searing fire extending from his arm.  
  
Right after the incident in the library, Draco had ran flat out to the Slytherin dungeon; pushing about a dozen admirers on the way. He was angry in finding that the whole of his house was gone. He needed someone who was not fawning over him to occupy him. He couldn't think of what he had just shown Granger.  
  
Draco had stomped up the steps to his room where he intended to rest the day away in hopes to forget everything; but someone elsewhere had other ideas. As soon as he had locked his door the symbol in his skin erupted with sizzling heat. Never had Draco known pain such as this could have existed. He tried to fight it and stand strong, but with every protest of the pain it only increased more.  
  
Then it hit such a climax that he thought no more of wishing it away. He simply jerked and tensed on the ground, wanting to scream but not daring, hoping it to stop but then glad in a way that it didn't. At least no thoughts of the library could come to him.  
  
****  
  
"Stupid, stupid boy! Why did we trust him to do a thing like this? Wasting a perfectly potent spell on him; and then watching as he blabs it out to a MUDBLOOD!" Voldemort swung his arm in rage, knocking over everything that was on the mantelpiece of the Malfoy Manor.  
  
"My Lord," Lucius broke in, stepping in front of his wife. "Draco may seem a tad weak at the moment, yes. But he will carry out our wishes; I have little doubts in my son."  
  
Voldemort rounded on him, his slitted eyes burning with green fire. His next words came in a hiss, low and sinister, making Lucius fidget slightly.  
  
"IF THERE IS LITTLE DOUBT THEN THERE IS SOME DOUBT TO BEGIN WITH!!! Malfoy, everything I have been planning for rides on whether or not your boy gets the information I need!!! If he does not posses the knowledge I want from Dumbledore then my killing of that pathetic Muggle family was to waste!!! Not to mention that the power I could own would be lost to me forever!"  
  
"My Lord," Lucius tried once again, hoping that he didn't look frightened by his master. If Voldemort ever knew his servants could cower so weakly under his rage then he would surely kill them; with the exception of Wormtail, of course. "My Lord, pardon my asking, but why can we not follow on the information given by the muggle family's father? Surely his knowledge is enough to find them?"  
  
"Fool," the Dark Lord growled, swirling around and pacing the room. Lucius felt his wife, Narcissa, shiver slightly behind him. He backed up next to her, grabbing her hand and squeezing tight. Narcissa relaxed. She was as faithful as any other to Voldemort, but there were times where she wasn't sure she could take his power.  
  
"Malfoy, we do have enough information to find these kids, but what happens when he go to them? With no knowing of their power or their level of magic they could blow us out of there in a second! Only Dumbledore knows what they can truly do and I need to know as well. But after that stunt your boy pulled in the library I have thoughts that maybe he will fail. I cannot have failures on my side, Malfoy. You know what happens to someone who fails me..." he glanced a look to Lucius. Lucius nodded obediently.  
  
"My Lord, if we had just told him from the beginning what he was to do then maybe he wouldn't fight the Mark so much..."  
  
"And take along the risk of him telling Dumbledore? I would have nothing of it! Your boy may be foolish, but he does have a mind of his own; and coming with that mind is a part of him that is good. If that part of him comes loose then he could have turned to the other side." Voldemort breathed deeply. Lucius bowed his head respectfully to his Master and Narcissa did the same.  
  
"We did not mean to question your choices, my Lord," Narcissa muttered silently. Voldemort took her formal apology with nothing more than a nod. But Lucius still had to ask one more thing of the Dark Lord.  
  
"My Lord, will you please release my son of the Cruciatus Curse now?"  
  
"No," Voldemort answered bluntly. Lucius knew he wouldn't, knew also that Draco deserved it. But Narcissa was still Draco's mother and she couldn't bear her son to be in such pain. At Voldemort's refusal she slumped into herself, choking back a cry of sorrow.  
  
"I will first let him know the error of his ways, and then I will withdraw it. But for now, he must know what happens if he pulls another idiotic stunt like he did with the Mudblood again. His mind is too strong for him, we must weaken it or else my hold on him will not work."  
  
With that Voldemort sat down and closed his eyes, concentrating on Draco Malfoy's writhing figure. Lucius bowed once to him and lead his wife out of the room.  
  
****  
  
Harry was very, very lost. He had no idea what was going on. He had just come back to the castle after a tiring day in Hogsmeade, and was intending to rest before dinner; but since Ron had run off and left him in Honeydukes, Harry's energy was being tested. Now, though, everything was just getting too weird. He had come into the Entrance Hall to find Ron and Hermione talking. When he greeted Hermione, however, she went a bit mental on him and was acting like he was a bomb about to go off. Then she broke out in this fit about him being head over heels in love with her and then fell into silence before collapsing to the floor.  
  
"Er-what is going on here?" Harry asked to both Ron standing behind him and Hermione lying face down and crumpled up on the floor. Harry saw that she wasn't going to answer him at the moment, (she was softly pounding her fist into the stone floor and mumbling into her robes), so he turned around to Ron. "Have you any idea?"  
  
"Not one bit," Ron said. "I came in and Hermione gave me this death stare before asking me if I loved her too. Then she said she needed to talk to me, without you, but then you came and she got scared of you and then you asked her why and she told you to stay and you didn't listen so you-"  
  
"Ron, shush! I didn't need a total recap of what I just did. I just wanted to know what's going on with her." He pointed to Hermione who was still on the floor. "What's up with Hermione asking us if we love her? I love her as a friend, yeah, but as more?" He shook his head. Ron shrugged, not even the faintest idea coming to his mind. Harry beckoned him forward and both boys bent down next to their friend on the floor. She seemed to be moaning and groaning inwardly.  
  
"What do you mean? I have two?" Harry heard her say, but to whom she was talking to and what about he did not know. "How can that be? There must have been something wrong with the spell then. But there had to be!"  
  
"Er, Hermione?" Ron questioned; and again he poked her. She responded with a loud yell of frustration. Scared, Ron withdrew his hand quickly and moved next to Harry.  
  
"What did you do to her?" Harry asked gently and quietly, making sure Hermione did not hear him.  
  
"Nothing, I just poked her. She's lost it, Harry, trust me. After all these years of studying those books, they've finally eaten away at her brain. We've lost her." Ron placed his hand across his chest and looked sadly at Hermione as if she were a fallen soldier. Harry did nothing to suppress his laugh; and this seemed to do the trick, for when he laughed Hermione looked up at him, her face stern and her eyes blazing with fire.  
  
"What, may I ask, is so funny, Harry?" she snapped. Harry said nothing, but just shook his head, trying hard to put on a serious face.  
  
"Actually, Hermione, we should be asking you that very same question," Ron injected. "What is wrong with you? You have to tell both of us, now or never; but choose now because dinner is in a couple of hours." He flashed her his lopsided grin and nudged Harry to stand with him. Both boys straightened up and then extended their hands down to Hermione. She took their assistance without hesitation.  
  
"You have no idea how much chaos has happened since this morning," she told them, fixing her robes. "But I can't tell you here, we have to go outside somewhere, it's the only place where I'm certain no one will find me; no boy at least."  
  
"What?" Ron asked blandly.  
  
"I'll explain when we get outside," Hermione said, pushing them both towards the oak doors again.  
  
"But Hermione, do you know how cold it is out there? I am not going back out! Let's just go to the common room or your beloved library?"  
  
"Ron, we either go outside and talk or we don't talk at all and I leave you two to figure matters for yourself," Hermione threatened. Harry shot Ron a 'you-idiot-don't-test-her-right- now' look before pulling open the doors.  
  
"Shall we?" Harry said, sweeping his arm to guide them out of the warmth of the castle. Hermione glanced at Ron, asking her question again without muttering a word.  
  
"Oh all right!" he cried, throwing up his hands and stepping back into the bitter fall wind. Harry shrugged behind him and Hermione simply smiled.  
  
****  
  
"Malfoy did what?!" Ron asked, outraged. He stepped in front of Hermione, waiting for an answer. Hermione just looked to the ground to hide the pink tinge creeping up her neck.  
  
The trio had decided to walk around the Quidditch field, huddled together against the cold. No one in their right mind would want to be outside since the wind hit an ultimate climax so they were insured privacy. Hermione had relived everything that happened to her since the two had left her at breakfast. She explained what happened in her room, the common room with Neville and when she walked down the student packed corridor. The whole time both Harry and Ron were silent, absorbing everything she was saying. But once she hit the part when she and Malfoy crashed and the spell swallowed him as well, Ron could keep silent no longer.  
  
"Ron, please, that isn't important. What I really needed to tell you is where the spell came-"  
  
"I'll kill him!" Ron erupted, balling his hands into fists. "I'll take my wand and-Harry! Harry, you could hold him for me! And then I'll whip out my wand-"  
  
"Ron!" Hermione hit him in the back of the head, hard.  
  
"Ah!"  
  
"Ron," Hermione said, rubbing her forehead. "That is very sweet of you, but like I said, it isn't the point! I still haven't gotten to the important parts." Hermione shivered hard as the wind howled past her lifting her hair and leaving behind a fierce cold. She didn't have her cloak on like Harry and Ron, but she didn't want to go back to the castle to retrieve it. Harry noticed her trembling and caught her up on it.  
  
"Hermione," he said, pulling off his own cloak and wrapping it around her shoulders, "I think we better get out of this wind. Let's go back to the castle, okay?"  
  
"No!" Hermione cried. "If we go back all the boys I looked at are going to be waiting for me! Harry, you know how it is when people won't stop staring at you and leaving you alone! Besides, I'm not finished speaking. Don't worry, I'm not that cold." But she contradicted herself just then by cowering behind Harry from the bitter wind.  
  
"Hermione, you're stubborn," Ron told her. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.  
  
"Fine, then we'll just go into the locker rooms. No one will be there. Come on, let's go." Harry motioned both of them to follow him.  
  
In the shelter of the Gryffindor locker room the trio found heat to warm their bones. When she stopped shivering, Hermione handed Harry back his cloak thankfully and then launched quickly into her story. She rushed over the rest of Malfoy's reaction to the spell, taking time to shoot Ron one warning glance before he stood in protest, and then she went on about how Crystal mysteriously contacted her in the library.  
  
Through her view point and by her voice, Harry and Ron found out about why Crystal, the first born Oracle, cast the spell and how she did it. Like Hermione, they saddened at the fact that the spell could not be broken, until Leo put his own part in it. They understood that the only way for Hermione to regain her normal life was if she found her True Love. But who could that be?  
  
"I bet you everything it's Lockhart," Ron whispered to Harry behind his hand, so Hermione would not hear. Harry let a smirk crawl across his face before wiping it away in light of Hermione's suspicious glance.  
  
It took another 20 minutes or so for her to tell about the strange occurrence when Malfoy returned, showing her the Dark Mark embedded into his arm and asking for her assistance. She paused after telling them that, looking quickly to Ron for his usual outburst, but it never came. He was looking slightly horrified like Harry, but both of their faces were overcome with deep thought and worry.  
  
"Go on," was all Harry said in reaction. Ron nodded slowly.  
  
"Okay. Well, that was when Crystal came back to me. She sounded scared about something, but I didn't know what. Anyway, that was when I lost all hope about lifting the spell; but Crystal said I had a True Love. Well, of course I do but not now, so I told her that. She told me yes I did and to listen carefully to her words."  
  
"So, you have one?" Ron said in a mocking voice, raising his eyebrows suggestively at her. "And, pray tell, who is this True Love of yours? I am anxious to know."  
  
"Er..." Hermione stammered.  
  
"Don't worry Hermione, I won't laugh at you," Harry assured her. "I'm not so sure about Ron though."  
  
"And you should be," Ron said proudly.  
  
"Well, I'll get to that part in a second. But what Crystal told me was that the only way to make sure who my True Love is, is to look them in the eyes." Hermione bit her lip nervously. She would tell them who it was by explaining why they weren't under the spell.  
  
"But if you looked in their eyes, wouldn't they be under your spell?" Ron asked.  
  
"But we're not under her spell," Harry pointed out. "Maybe because we've known her too long or we're too close as friends."  
  
"No, that's not it," Hermione muttered.  
  
"Wait Harry, I want to know who it is!"  
  
"And I want to know why we're not under the spell!"  
  
"The only way to know who my True Love can be is simple. The spell will not work on him when I lock eyes, so they won't be affected at all, they will act like nothing has happened! Their love for me will be too strong to be overcome by something so petty as a spell!" Hermione waited. She held her breath, watching and hoping that her best friends would figure out everything she just said.  
  
Harry and Ron just sat for awhile, thinking hard about what Hermione had said and adding that to everything that had happened. They weren't under her spell, but they should have been because they were boys; and the only way to free Hermione from the spell was for her to find her True Love and have him admit that he was. Hermione had just said that she had to look her Love in the eyes to know it was him, for nothing would happen to him when she did; and neither boy was under her spell. She had looked both Harry and Ron in the eyes, yet neither was under the...  
  
"Oh bloody hell!" Ron shouted, standing up in either outrage, relief, confusion, hunger, joy or disbelief.  
  
"Hermione," Harry said, turning slowly so he could see her. Hermione could have sworn she saw the slightest hint of either joy or fear in his eyes.  
  
"Yes, Harry?" she asked, trying desperately to hide the peculiar smile tugging at her mouth.  
  
"Are you saying, that me and Ron are your-"  
  
"But it can't be! That wouldn't make sense! The world has gone mental, that's the answer to everything! The world has gone mental!"  
  
"But Ron, I looked both of you in the eye and you don't seem too loving at the moment. Plus, Crystal even said that both of you were my..." Hermione trailed away. It sounded weird saying it out loud.  
  
****  
  
Harry was speechless; I mean, what else could he say? How could he be Hermione's True Love? And it wasn't like knowing that Ron shared that same fate helped either. Sure he loved Hermione, he always felt he had this small obligation to protect her and make sure she was okay, but to love her like that?! She was his best friend! He had never thought of her in that way, truly!  
  
People always said they we're more than just friends, but Harry didn't think like that...right? When only she believed him when he said he had never put his name in the Goblet of Fire last year, he had only thought his gratitude toward her was just that, gratitude...right? When she was his only friend, trying to get him to talk to Ron, spending every minute of every day with him; nothing happened between them for those few weeks...right?  
  
Then on Christmas Day at the Yule Ball, she looked so radiant, so beautiful, striding along on Krum's arm. But Harry didn't want her on his own arm...right? Right?  
  
****  
  
Ron didn't know what else to do but say his prize-winning line: Bloody hell. What else would someone have done in the light of what he had just found out? Him, Hermione's True Love, alongside Harry? It was outrageous, ridiculous, not true, and not true at all...and yet...  
  
Did Ron not have strong feelings for Hermione for some time now? He had made it known last year without intending too, that was for sure. He had been very protective of her in his own ways, devastated when she had been petrified in second year. He was always yelling at her when she did something against his will; it was his own personal way of showing he cared.  
  
Then in fourth year Hermione had gone to the Yule Ball with Krum. Ron could faintly remember hearing his heart break when he had seen her. She was gorgeous, her sleek hair piled wonderfully atop her head, her blue robes flowing behind her and her glittering eyes staring about proudly. Ron recalled wanting to walk with her, not Krum; he didn't deserve to. Even if Harry was her partner Ron would have been happier, but Krum? He didn't know the great mind she had, the strength she possessed and the courage only she could handle.  
  
But Ron knew, he had always known, always admired her for it. But to admire her so much as to love her?!  
  
****  
  
Hermione picked absentmindedly at her dinner, her head resting in her hand and her eyes focused intently on her two friends. Since their walk back to the castle, ( to much of the dismay of Hermione), and all the way until dinner neither Ron nor Harry had said a word.  
  
Try as she might to speak with them they just ignored her that much more. Actually, Hermione felt as though they had purposely drifted from her; and she didn't blame them. It was uncomfortable to find out that you were the True Love of one of your best friends. But Hermione couldn't handle their silence towards her, she needed their support more than ever to figure her situation out.  
  
Hermione had just decided to yell at Harry and Ron to talk with her; and at the same time yell at Harry for sitting on the other side of the table instead of his usual seat beside her. But she never got the chance for at that moment she had the strange feeling that she was being watched. She looked to her right and saw that down the table Neville was watching her. Actually, it wasn't only Neville; so many eyes were flashing in her direction before quickly turning away once they'd noticed she was looking back.  
  
Hermione groaned loudly at them all before burying her head in her hands. She really did not want to be in the Great Hall, surrounded by the entire student body; but she had skipped over lunch and her worn body screamed out for nourishment; yet she still could not force down her dinner. Why were Harry and Ron not speaking to her? What was so bad about being her True Love?  
  
They had been friends for five years now, have gone through situations that most everyone in the world hadn't gone through. Besides, Hermione had been hearing from her girls' dormitory that she was a shoe-in with either Harry or Ron, so what was the big deal? Sure it was awkward, but she needee their help right!  
  
"She's over there, with Potter and Weasley."  
  
"Wonder if she's with one of them,"  
  
"No way, she's too beautiful to be with them; she should be with-"  
  
"Me."  
  
From the refuge of her hands, Hermione could here the guys under her spell whispering about her. A blush warmed her cheeks as the scowls and disapprovals from the other girls were made heard; yet they still weren't loud enough to drown out her admirers.  
  
Hermione peeked through her fingers to see Ron and Harry. They were looking down at their plates, pretending not to hear everyone speaking. Hermione wished, for the first time in her life, that they would just get up and knock everyone's lights out.  
  
"Not you! She'd never go for you, she's way too smart."  
  
"I wish I were a Gryffindor right now..."  
  
"Me too."  
  
"Well I am!"  
  
"She's so close I could touch her..." a sixth year said from beside Hermione.  
  
"I know..." a Hufflepuff agreed from behind her.  
  
Hermione could feel as both boys reached out to touch her hair. Frightened, she made to recoil away or to turn around and slap them both, but she never got the chance. She heard a bench scrape across the floor as someone stood up abruptly and then the clink of a fork dropping to the table. Hermione looked up to see what had happened.  
  
Ron had stood up and reached across the table to grab the outstretched hand of the Gryffindor sixth year. He had stopped it just inches from Hermione, his stare boring into his skin. The Gryffindor in turn looked horrified; Ron had moved so fast and so suddenly.  
  
Harry had stopped the Hufflepuff as well, yet minus the physical lightning. He had merely fixed him with his haunted and steady gaze, making him halt. The Hufflepuff stared back, trying to look away yet mesmerized by his emerald eyes.  
  
"Don't touch her," Harry said in a low voice. There was no hint of warning, no challenge or anger in it. He was so bland, completely devoid of any emotion. It was even worse than if there were any at all. The Hufflepuff boy nodded obediently and drew back to his table.  
  
He knew that rebelling over a Gryffindor was almost as bad as going against a Slytherin; you just didn't do it. And also the fact that this was Harry Potter speaking made him that much more scared.  
  
"Same with you," Ron said, making his anger known. The whole of the Great Hall was watching now, almost all frightened by Weasley and Potter. Only Neville looked unaffected by them; he was still staring stupidly at Hermione!  
  
Ron threw the sixth year's hand back and stepped away from his seat. Harry stood also and did the same. Ron could not take so many people looking at him so he quickly made to leave the Hall. Harry walked fast around the table and grabbed Hermione's hand.  
  
"Come on, we're getting out of here," he said. He helped her out of her chair and led her out of the Hall. Unlike Ron, Harry was used to people staring at him; and the only good way to make them stop or to deal with it was to stare back. He glared all along the tables as they left until everyone went back to their plates. Hermione quietly thanked him for this.  
  
Ron waited by the entrance for his two friends. When they were level with him he turned to retrace the route back to Gryffindor Tower, but someone was blocking his way: Malfoy. Ron backed up automatically, never taking his eyes off Malfoy. He prepared to hear an insult upon him for what he'd done but Malfoy never uttered a word.  
  
Ron had noticed, himself, that he hadn't been his usual nasty self lately. But now he looked positively haunted.  
  
His sleek blonde hair was very out of place and he was even paler than normal, (this was saying something as Malfoy could make snow look black). His grey eyes were wide and frightened and he was trembling slightly. He was slumped over himself a little and his robes hung from his elbows.  
  
Having seen Ron, Malfoy tried to straighten, fighting desperately to intimidate him like always, but he winced as with so much pain at his small movement and abandoned that idea. Ron could feel Harry grasp his shoulder and move him gently to the side. Seeing this as his way past, Malfoy staggered slightly forward and then proceeded to the Slytherin table.  
  
"Was it just me, or did Malfoy seem...different?" Ron said sarcastically to Harry. Harry shook his head and shrugged, looking at Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson fawning over the state he was in.  
  
"Come on Ron, let's just get out of here," he replied. Ron nodded enthusiastically and led the way back to their common room.  
  
****  
  
Once in the safety of their own (and very much empty) house, Harry plopped gratefully into an armchair in front of the fire. He closed his eyes to the fire's glow, rubbing his forehead and trying to find the words to start off the conversation that always followed after such acts as todays. Harry did not see but felt Ron walk past his chair onto the couch beside him. He flung off his cloak, deposited it on the floor, and then fell into the cushions of the sofa.  
  
Harry waited, eyes still closed, for Hermione to move to her usual armchair across from Harry, but she never did. Not hearing or feeling any movement from her direction Harry opened his eyes and peered around his seat. She was standing a little far back from them, almost close to the staircase entry to the dorm rooms. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her look was the one she always wore when either Ron or himself disappointed her severely.  
  
"Hermione," Harry asked tiredly, "what's wrong?"  
  
"What's wrong?" Hermione repeated. Harry just nodded, not knowing why she was so angry. "What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong!"  
  
"Good." Ron's voice was muffled from next to Harry. It was probably because he had fallen face-down into the cushions out of exhaustion. Hermione heard him, however, and she did not take it lightly. In fact, she positively exploded.  
  
"What is the matter with the two of you?! You would think that, being my best friends and all, that you would worry about what has happened to me and help me through it! Not completely trash my feelings by acting mournful over being my True Loves! Believe me, I never thought that either of you could be the right one for me. To be brutally honest, I'm a bit disappointed myself!" She stopped for only a second to catch her breath.  
  
"Hermione, wait. Ron and I never meant to hurt your-"  
  
"No Harry, you wait!" Hermione bellowed. Harry abruptly shut his mouth. He saw Ron sit up quickly next to him. It wasn't exactly smart to not listen to someone when they were scolding you.  
  
"Hermi-" Ron started.  
  
"Wait, I'm not finished! Ever since we came back from the Quidditch field neither of you have said a word; and by the look on your faces the whole way through it was obvious what you were thinking! Even though I am your friend it's not like I don't have feelings! You both seemed so disappointed that one of you could love me, especially you Ron!"  
  
Ron took this moment to go completely red and sink low in his seat. Harry would have laughed at the sight of him like that if it were not for the gnawing feeling in his stomach. He honestly did not intend to act so horrified in finding out he was one of Hermione's True Loves. It was just the shock that had overtaken his features. But now that he thought about it he understood her fury.  
  
He didn't even take the time to consider what she felt through this whole ordeal. But Harry was angry about knowing what he was; he just should have told Hermione that.  
  
And then with Hermione blowing up at Ron and saying he was sad that he might love her!?! Like it wasn't common knowledge to almost the entire school that Ron worshiped the ground Hermione walked on! He probably never would have admitted it but he had always been quite taken with her for a few years now! Hadn't Hermione noticed? Probably not, Harry concluded. Then she wouldn't have gotten so angry at him.  
  
"But I really don't need you two moping around about your fates! I don't know if I'm being selfish or greedy right now but I need you two to help me! You've seen what this spell has done to almost the entire school! The boys become unbelievable idiots around me, the girls hate me because they think I cast some kind of 'worship me' spell and the teachers look at me like I'm some kind of two-headed hippogriff! I need, no wait...needed your help through this before. But now I know I won't get that from you Harry, or you Ron! Why don't you two go and jump in the lake for all I care, I'll figure this thing out with just Crystal and my mind. Thanks so much for absolutely nothing!" She threw down her arms and turned on her heel towards the stairway.  
  
"Hermione, wait!" Ron fell off the couch in a mad struggle to reach Hermione. He half tumbled into her before regaining his balance. Ron caught her arm and yanked her back with much more force than he probably meant to. "Hermione, I-"  
  
"Save it Ron," she said sternly, "for someone who cares." Her eyes were welling up with, to Harry's unknowingly correct knowledge, tears held back from all day. Hermione pulled her hand out from Ron's fingers and dashed all the way to her dorm room, slamming the door behind her. Ron stayed rooted to the spot, staring at the space where Hermione had been just a few seconds before.  
  
"I-I didn't mean to make her so angry," he said, looking up to Harry. He looked so ashamed with himself. Harry felt the exact same way.  
  
"Neither did I," Harry said. "But she was right you know."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Then again, when was Hermione ever wrong?" Ron asked, watching as Harry stood up and walked to him. "Harry, I'm not really disappointed about being Hermione's...you know..."  
  
"True Love?"  
  
"Yeah. I was just caught off guard I guess. I mean, what else would I have said?"  
  
"I know what you mean, that's how I feel too," Harry admitted. Ron went on.  
  
"I know that 'bloody hell' does nothing to lighten the situation, but that's who I am! When something amazes me or befuddles me I yell it! Yes, Harry, I know what you are going to say: we should have stayed with her and help her instead of go inside ourselves and wonder if we truly were what she said we were but how could we both be?! How is it that both of us could love that same person? And shut up Harry, I know what I just said was totally stupid but I'm on a roll here!"  
  
Harry closed his mouth once again, watching as Ron continued to pace back and forth over the room over and over again. He was practically creating a canyon in his wake. Harry fought to keep his face stern and his attention averted to Ron's words.  
  
"What should I have said, something false? "Oh yeah, Hermione, this is really no shock to me whatsoever! Don't you worry about a thing because me and Harry will totally think nothing of it and help you out with everything!' Or did she wants us to lie? 'Hermione, I think your mental! Do you have any right to think that I love you like that? How could I love someone as nerdy as you?!  
  
"Or maybe I should have just said the truth on how I felt!!! 'Hermione, I really do love you, always have ever since third year, maybe longer! I am so relieved that I'm on of your True Loves other than idiot Krum back in Bulgaria! Believe me Hermione when I tell you I have only been faithful to you for four years and that no one I'll ever meet will amount to you and your beauty, your charm and your intelligence!' Yeah, that would have made a good news headliner! Let all of Hogwarts hear me spill the beans! Good thing no one knows that or else I'd be in- " And then Ron stopped in his tracks.  
  
Harry watched, face glowing with satisfaction, as Ron turned slowly around to look at him from across the room. Harry just stared back, arms folded over his broad chest and head leaning back slightly. The smile he wore on his face would be the one to send Ron over the edge. It was the grin one wore when they held information that would kill you due to embarrassment.  
  
"Harry," Ron said slowly in almost a whisper. "I didn't mean what I said. Just forget everything I just-"  
  
"So you like her, do you?" Harry said, adopting the same taunting pitch as Malfoy had used over the years on him. Harry now understood why he had used it so often: it was fun!  
  
"Harry, no. I didn't say that or mean any of it! Please, just forget-"  
  
"No, you didn't say you like her, did you?" Harry shook his head knowingly. Ron practically fell to his knees.  
  
"Thank you Harry. Thank you! Just, don't tell anyone, all right? Thanks old pal..."  
  
"No...you don't like her," Harry continued. "You love her!"  
  
"Harry!"  
  
"Why didn't you say anything, Weasley! Or did you not notice our best friend falling apart over here?! She is right, you are an idiot." Harry looked down at Ron who had fallen to the floor. Ron shook his head miserably.  
  
"You. Are. The. Worst. Friend. Ever." Ron was at Harry's feet, an embarrassed heap of robes on the red and gold rug.  
  
"No, actually you are Ron because now Hermione thinks you hate her when actually you LOVE her and now she's probably crying in her room." Harry did everything in his power to look and sound angry but couldn't help but smile the entire time. Ron had just admitted that he loves Hermione! It was a miracle to hear him say it with his own mouth.  
  
"I know, I know. I should have said something," Ron agreed in shame on the floor. "But, wait." He scrambled to his feet quickly. Harry just watched him, a grin in place the whole time. "What about you? You didn't say anything! Don't you love her?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I thought so! Nothing could come in front of your crush on that Ravenclaw, Cho Chang or something. Besides, if you ever really did like Hermione you would have never admitted it. I mean, you can't even tell Cho that you like...wait. What?" Ron looked at him, brow furrowed and as confused as ever.  
  
"I-I love her," Harry repeated with a bit more difficulty this time. Ron took a while to process what he was hearing but then abruptly changed his attitude when he did. He cocked an eyebrow at Harry in answer.  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And you're getting angry at me for not telling her? Honestly Potter, I think that scar has messed with your brain!" Ron poked Harry in the forehead playfully. Harry swiped away his hand and laughed in turn.  
  
"I love her as a sister Ron, but not as much as you do, no doubt about that," he answered. He nudged Ron, indicating that they should get some sleep. Ron nodded and followed him up the stairs.  
  
"Yeah, sure. Course you only love her like that," Ron taunted. Harry shook his head and chose to ignore him. But Ron couldn't let him get away with embarrassing him and not returning the favor. What kind of best friend would he be if he didn't?  
  
"Ron?" Ron snapped out of his thoughts and saw that Harry was holding the door open for him. He cast one mournful glance to Hermione's dorm door before going into his own. But he quickly dropped his saddened attitude in light of what he was saying to Harry.  
  
"Course you don't love her more than a sister, because you're in love with my sister." Saying this received a shock to travel up Ron's arm for Harry had taken out his wand and poked his arm in reaction. The two boys laughed and closed the door. They could take a much earned rest until the next day, when they would explain everything to Hermione.  
  
****  
  
"Leo?" Crystal called, walking to every door in the corridor and peering in. "Leo where are you?"  
  
"I'm not telling you!" Leo called back, obviously still angry with her. But Crystal smiled gently and followed his voice to a door on the left side of the hall.  
  
This was one of the many spare rooms spread out among the tower. When Crystal pushed back the ebony door she saw why Leo was in it. This room looked exactly like the Gryffindor common room at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She could remember, from long ago, when Leo had begged her to make one of the rooms an exact replica. He had been only seven when he read the book Hogwarts, A History and he wanted so much to attend the school. But when Crystal had told him he couldn't, he was devastated. A few days later he had come crawling to her with a picture of Gryffindor Tower. He had said that if they couldn't go to Hogwarts, then they should pretend that Hogwarts came to them.  
  
Crystal could see Leo sitting by the fireplace. He was staring sadly into the flames while stroking an old, beat up wizard's hat. It was their own imitation of the Sorting Hat. Leo had been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Crystal come in.  
  
"Leo?" she prompted once more. Leo jumped a little and looked her way.  
  
"How did you find me?" he asked outraged. "I told you I wasn't going to tell you where I was!" "Leo," Crystal answered, laughing a little and shaking her head. "I followed the sound of your voice. You never were really good at hide-and-seek." Crystal walked into the room and over to Leo. She sat down on the couch with him, her white dress rippling in response.  
  
"Go away," Leo said, staring down at the 'Sorting Hat'.  
  
"Leo, I need to talk to you."  
  
"So?"  
  
"It's about Hermione," Crystal said. This had much less affect on her brother than she anticipated. He only shrugged and placed the hat on the table behind the couch.  
  
"What about Hermione? You want to cast another stupid spell on her? And what's wrong with you? You're acting...normal. You're not normal, Crystal. You're crazy."  
  
Crystal could feel the pain as his words bore through her. But he had a right to say all these things, and she would let him.  
  
"Listen. When you told me off about how I was acting, I kind of broke out of my...mental state. I always hear the words you say but never listen. This time I listened. You were right Leo, I used to fight this power of mine, it had been so easy at first. But then it started growing, as yours have, and it became harder. I know I shouldn't have given into the pain but I'm weak; you're not. Leo, I'm sorry I haven't been a better sister to you, I really am. But what you said to me broke the shell and now Crystal Tiara is back; I'm back."  
  
Crystal looked at him, hoping against all hope that he would believe her. In the soft glow of the fire she saw a side to Leo she never had before; it was the child side of him. It was astonishing to Crystal that she never really understood that Leo was only a mere boy. He had always acted above his age, taking care of his older sister and arranging everything for her. But now he looked ten again; a small ten-year-old boy who was afraid of the world just like all the others. This sight filled Crystal's heart with bitter shame and guilt.  
  
"Are you sure?" he asked in a high, hopeful voice. "Because if I find out this is one of your tricks you're going to get it!"  
  
"No Leo, I'm not lying to you. I've always been able to break out of my mental state but I never really wanted to. It was my way of escaping the responsibilities put upon me. But now I'm back, I'm your sister again; and I won't use my power of foresight for a long time. At least until I learn how to fight it again."  
  
Leo looked at her skeptically, trying to decipher any conceit in her words. But when he found none his face lit up, exactly like a little boy's would when he found the wonders under a Christmas tree.  
  
"Come here tough guy," Crystal said, opening her arms to him. Leo crawled gratefully into her embrace before sitting back and getting down to business.  
  
"Okay, tell me everything and I'll try and find a way out," he said. Crystal only beamed in response before both dived in to a very strategic and detailed plan about what to do.  
  
"Don't worry Hermione, Leo and I are working on it now," Crystal said in her head.  
  
"Thanks," Hermione answered back. Crystal could here the enormous relief in her words. In reaction to this she went back to work. **** Harry lay in bed for awhile staring at the crimson color of his canopy. It was hardly even daybreak and he was very tired but Harry couldn't sleep a wink last night. He had been so worried about Hermione. Not wanting to lie in bed forever Harry decided to just get up and get dressed. He went fairly slow about his business, trying to waste as much time as possible. So when he was all ready, the sun had risen some good length above the horizon.  
  
Harry thought Hermione might already be up so he went to go knock on her door, abandoning the sudden thought of waking Ron up. Trying to wake him up before he wanted to was like trying make a rock move: it was impossible. The only person capable of doing it was Mrs. Weasley. So Harry quietly crept out of the boys' dormitories and crossed the stone walkway that led to the girls'.  
  
"Hermione, what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing, I'm fine. Honestly."  
  
"Hermione, I know when you're lying to me."  
  
Harry could hear Hermione talking to someone else through the oak door. He paused in front of it, pressing his ear to the cold wood. The other person talking had a very soft voice so Harry couldn't recognize or place it, but he knew the owner of it, he was sure.  
  
"I didn't get much sleep last night, that's all," Harry heard Hermione say.  
  
"Are you positive that's all there is? My brother and Harry haven't been giving you a hard time are they?" the other said in a teasing tone. Hermione laughed a little.  
  
"Well Ginny, those two have been giving me a hard time since I met them." Hermione laughed again with Ginny, but Harry could hear it in her voice that she was still very angry with Ron and him.  
  
"Well, if you are sure you're all right..."  
  
"I am Ginny. Thanks for caring about me."  
  
"Well Hermione, you're like a sister to me. Always checking up on me and helping me out with things. I just thought I'd return the favor."  
  
"Thanks again."  
  
"But if you're feeling tired Hermione I suggest you rest today. Don't go anywhere!"  
  
"But Ginny-"  
  
"Don't!" Ginny commanded in a playful pitch. "Promise?"  
  
There was only silence that followed, so Harry guessed Hermione had just nodded. He wondered when Ginny would leave so he could speak with Hermione when the door fell away from his ear. Harry immediately backed away, afraid Ginny and Hermione would decapitate him if they found out he'd been eavesdropping. But Ginny had only opened the door a crack and her back was to Harry; she was still saying something to Hermione.  
  
"-and I'll come back later today to see how you're doing," she said. Harry didn't know where else to go so, like the brave and courageous guy he was, he stayed where he was, ready to face the accusation that would come when he was found.  
  
"Okay, okay. I'll be here when you get back," Hermione answered. Satisfied, Ginny turned around to leave; but she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Harry standing before her.  
  
"Er-" was all he could say at the moment. He didn't know if she was angry with him for being there or just plain shocked; she wasn't moving. "Um...sorry Gin. I wasn't listening in on you and Hermione. I just came by to talk to her and see how she was." Harry waited for her response but Ginny said nothing. Instead she turned beet red and skittered down the stairs and out the portrait hole. Harry figured that she was still embarrassed about him kissing her. Like he wasn't! Harry didn't know if Ginny still liked him, but he only thought of her as a sister type...right?  
  
Yes, you moron! His head screamed back before Harry got too engrossed in thought.  
  
He nodded gratefully to himself and pushed open the oak door all the way.  
  
"Hermione, we need to talk," he began. He looked up, expecting to see her sitting on her bed or standing by the window, but she was no where in sight! "Hermione? Hermione where are you?" And of course, no answer was spoken to him in return. Harry crossed over the empty room to Hermione's neatly made up bed. On it was a piece of parchment bearing Hermione's tiny handwriting. It was a note addressed to Harry.  
Sorry Harry, I borrowed your Invisibility Cloak while you were sleeping.  
  
I just needed to get out of the castle and be alone for a while. When I saw you in the doorway when Ginny left I couldn't speak to either you or Ron so I threw on the cloak and slipped past you and Gin. I promise to return your cloak when I get back.  
  
Hermione  
  
Harry crumpled the paper in his hand. So much for spilling the beans about Ron to her. It would have made her laugh or throw something; either way it would have lightened her spirits.  
  
Not knowing what else to do, Harry fell down on to Hermione's bed. He checked his watch, wondering what time it was. It was already nine o'clock, explaining why Parvati and Lavender weren't in. Harry just sat there, looking around the room, having no strength to stand and walk. Sitting there, all alone and having nothing to occupy him, Harry's mind slowly trailed back to the conversation he had last night with Ron.  
  
"What about you? You didn't say anything! Don't you love her?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
That moment had to be the worst moment in his life. Saying that he loved Hermione?! His every intention was to say no; say no and go to bed and then talk to Hermione the next day. But instead he had to say yes and try to find a way to cover it up. Because Harry wasn't so sure he only loved Hermione as a sister.  
  
There were so many times where he was glad she was there with him, beside him. She was no Ron of course, but there were so many things she did that Ron could never had done. She always believed him when he said something, never once did she ever doubt his word. Everyone was convinced last year that she was his girlfriend, and Harry had wondered, for just a brief moment, why wasn't she?  
  
But Harry still wanted Ron and Hermione to...well, he didn't know what he wanted, but they seemed so right for each other. Harry couldn't forget the looks Ron used to flash in Hermione's direction, the way he always fought with her and enjoyed it so much. It had made Harry burst out in hysteria so often, but did he ever do that? Sitting in her room, among all her things sent a wave of memories over Harry. When she looked at him with laughter in her eyes, when she hugged him with joyous tears, when she spoke to him...  
  
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Harry said angrily to himself. He stood up abruptly and marched out of the room. "Who am I, Ron? I don't know why.because I couldn't possibly.-but then again.oh bugger," Harry growled at himself as he descended the stairs. "I don't even talk to myself but I'm doing it now."  
  
Extremely occupied with his unusual behavior, Harry did not notice Ron waiting for him in an armchair by the stairway. He brushed right past him and to the fireplace where he continued to pace in horror of himself.  
  
"Why am I even dwelling on this?" he asked calmly. "I don't love Hermione, not like Ron that is." He sounded completely unsure of himself. "Are you positive?" Ron put in quietly from his safe corner.  
  
"Yes I'm sure," Harry answered, still not noticing Ron and falling on to the couch now.  
  
"Sure?" Ron tested.  
  
"Y-yes."  
  
"Honest?"  
  
"Y-yeah...I am..."  
  
"Liar."  
  
"I know, I know!" Harry admitted, throwing up his hands. "But if Ron ever knew he'd kill me! We already crossed that road last year with my name in the Goblet! He's always been head over heels in love with Hermione-"  
  
"Shut up," Ron mumbled, resting his head in his hand.  
  
"-and if he ever knew that I..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"That I-"  
  
"Go on."  
  
"All right! I love her. Not like a sister I love her but really. Sure that thing about Cho was something but Hermione was-is there. Cho isn't; never really was actually. But if Ron ever knew he'd blow up on me." Harry fell sideways into the cushions. "But I do love her, and I can't help it."  
  
"I thought so Potter," Ron said, getting up and walking to him.  
  
"Oh no," Harry whispered, closing his eyes in horror. "Don't tell me..."  
  
"Yeah Harry, you and I just had a real heart to heart talk here; and I can't believe you lied to me like that!" Ron accused, leaning over the back of the sofa and staring down to Harry.  
  
"Look at me," Harry said miserably. "I'm you! Ow!" Harry rubbed the spot where Ron punched him in the arm.  
  
"Serve's you right!" Ron told him.  
  
"But Ron, how can we both love her?" Harry asked, still not sitting up.  
  
"Yeah, I'll answer you Harry because I haven't been asking the same exact question for about, oh the whole time!" Ron moved around the sofa and sat down in the chair next to it. "You lied to me. Harry, haven't you learned never to lie to me? It always turns out bad!"  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, straightening up and looking at him. "But when did I ever lie to you?"  
  
"Last year with your name in the Goblet."  
  
"But I was telling the truth!"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"So what is the point?!"  
  
"That if you don't tell me the truth I'll get it wrong and blame something on you that you didn't do at all."  
  
"And that's my fault?" Harry asked irritated.  
  
"Yes, see? Now I've blamed something on you that you never did because you supposedly lied to me again. Just don't do it Harry, I'll figure you out in the end," Ron answered, waving his hand in conclusion.  
  
"Anyway," Harry said, standing up and looking very confused, "what do we do about Hermione?"  
  
"Well," Ron replied, standing up as well. "Shall we talk about that over a spot of breakfast? I'm starving."  
  
"Yeah okay, let's go." Harry followed Ron out the portrait hole and down to the Great Hall.  
  
**** "Are you sure, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked, fear lurking in her words at his answer.  
  
"Yes, Minerva. I have just gotten word from a close member of the family. Their information together with the reports in the Muggle newspaper have brought me to my conclusion." Dumbledore walked out from behind his desk and over to his phoenix, Fawkes.  
  
"So he knows about them, doesn't he?" McGonagall pressed on. Dumbledore only nodded. "But Albus, no one should have known about them other than you and the boy! You had to tell Potter, Weasley and Granger about them because she was intervening!"  
  
"Well, first Minerva, you know about them," Dumbledore pointed out, eyes twinkling at her. Professor McGonagall looked to the ground a little. "And I must say that you are just as sneaky as the students in finding out information. But about Voldemort-" Dumbledore allowed Fawkes onto his arm and started walking around his office with him. McGonagall followed in his footsteps.  
  
"He's always known about them, thought of them as a myth when he was in school. I honestly don't know how he figured them out but somehow he did. That was probably why he worked so hard and was in the school library so much. He was always looking for more information about them, and on his way finding out more and more about the magical world. He knew more than probably most of the Professors. But his curiosity of them found him the information he needed to go after the boy." Dumbledore sighed deeply.  
  
"But how could he have known about them?"  
  
"I believe that was my fault, Minerva."  
  
"You?" she asked, outraged that he could blame such a thing on himself. "You would never do such a thing!"  
  
"My dear Professor," Dumbledore said, smiling. "You always thought me to be a perfect saint. But I assure you that it was me. "When I found out so many years ago I was just as fascinated with them as I am now. When I was teaching Transfiguration I couldn't help but let little things slip about them. Not enough to let any ordinary student to string together...but Tom was never an ordinary student, was he? I strongly underestimated his intelligence. But enough with dwelling in the past." The Headmaster let Fawkes fly back to his perch before settling, once more, into his desk chair.  
  
"What do we do now, Albus?" McGonagall asked hurriedly.  
  
"We don't have much time now. First thing I have to do is get Harry, Ron and Hermione to the Oracles. The portal will open in one day's time. The next time after that is next year, when we had planned to go; but we cannot wait any longer. Minerva, I ask but two things of you. Go now and find the three and tell them of the plans. Tell them nothing but of our change in schedule. They do not know about the boy and I intend to stall that until later.  
  
"Also, when we are gone, as Deputy Headmistress you are naturally in charge of the school. Along with that duty I need you to contact Remus and Arabella. I need their report on the location of Voldemort and why Black hasn't answered either Harry or I in months. Do this for me and I will be eternally grateful," Dumbledore told her.  
  
"Of course, Albus. Anything, you need not ask," she assured him.  
  
"Thank you so much," he praised.  
  
"I will go inform them now." And she hurried out the room and off to look for the trio. Dumbledore watched her go and then sat back in his chair. He breathed in deeply, trying to calm his nerves and think straight.  
  
"Rest in peace, Jakob. Your death shall not be in vain." Then Dumbledore stood up and began to prepare for the departure in two days.  
  
****  
  
Hermione threw off the cloak when she had finally reached the other side of the lake. She breathed in the cool, fresh air and brushed her hair out of her face. She started her nice, calming walk around the blue water as she folded up the cloak and slung it over her shoulder.  
  
For about five minutes Hermione just strolled about, trying to clear her mind and anger by breathing in the fresh air. She made sure not to stray too close to the Forbidden Forest, knowing the insane dangers that lay within, even during the day. As the wind caught her hair, Hermione looked back to the castle with a stern gaze. She was still angry about Harry and Ron, but also very disappointed that she could not go to the one person who would certainly help her. But what if she looked Professor Dumbledore in the eyes? That would be much too weird.  
  
"At least Crystal is finding a way out of this," she said to herself. The brief reassurance from the Oracle yesterday was enough to lift a satisfying amount of the burden laid upon her shoulders. "But what do I do if she can't help the spell?"  
  
With that in mind, Hermione had a very relaxing walk around the lake for about fifteen more minutes before her mode was tragically shattered by the presence of an unknown Death Eater.  
  
**** "So Ron, where's Hermione this morning?" Seamus called eagerly down the table. Not wanting to cause a scene by beating up his fellow Gryffindor and supposed friend, Ron stabbed his fork into his bacon. He looked up at Harry who was battling his own inner demon. Dean and some fourth year Ron didn't know were on either side of him prodding him with their wands and talking about Hermione. Ron had to hand it to Harry, he was dealing with them much better then he ever could. Harry's eyes were closed and he was gripping his spoon rather tightly, but other than that he showed no signs of strain.  
  
"So Harry, you seen her today?" a Ravenclaw asked from behind him. Ron shot him a very obvious look of irritation which made him retreat back to his table in silence.  
  
"See Harry? I told you Hermione was really pretty," Colin yelled from the other end of the house table.  
  
"Yes...Colin," Harry called back with as much calm as he could muster.  
  
"Well Ron, have you seen her?" Seamus pressed on.  
  
"No," Ron answered.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I don't know, Seamus. Have you seen her?"  
  
"No," he replied.  
  
"Then your answer is the same as his," Harry interrupted, throwing down his spoon with a clatter. "Come on, let's go look for her," he whispered to Ron. Ron nodded in huge relief and lifted himself from the bench. As they walked out of the Great Hall Seamus called to them one last time.  
  
"Well, if you see her will you tell me?"  
  
"NO!" Ron yelled, and then fled from the shocked silence that filled the hall.  
  
"Good job at keeping discreet," Harry muttered into his ear. Ron shook his head.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Well, lets go and find Hermione and tell her the truth," Harry said, taking in a deep breath.  
  
"Can't we just tell your truth?" Ron chanced. Harry only stared at him. "Guess not. Okay, but we have to 'announce' it to her properly so the spell will lift, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"Okay then, let's go."  
  
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley!"  
  
Ron spun around along with Harry only to be face to face with Professor McGonagall. Ron knew they weren't in trouble because McGonagall didn't look angry. In fact, she looked anxious and worried.  
  
"Yes Professor?" Harry asked.  
  
"Boys, the Headmaster would like to have another word with you as quickly as possible," she told them.  
  
"Why? What's wrong?"  
  
"Well Potter, let's just say that it has to do with the business of a very important secret." She gazed at them intently from under her poised hat. Both boys looked to each other with wide eyes and then back to the aged witch before them. She suddenly looked surprised about something and began searching about the Entrance area.  
  
"What are you looking for Professor?" Ron questioned.  
  
"Well, both of you are here but I see that Miss Granger is not with you. Very odd I must say. You three are usually always together. Where is she? I doubt very much that she'd want to miss such an important meeting with Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"Er-well, Professor," Ron started, "we don't know where she is either. At least I don't. Harry?"  
  
"She's outside somewhere but I haven't a clue where. We could go look for her and then meet Dumbledore if you want?"  
  
"Yes, yes. That would be splendid of the two of you. All right then, I'll tell him that you three are on your way." She smiled at them once and then turned to head up the stairs.  
  
"We better get started then," Harry informed Ron. He responded in his usual nod and they opened the oak doors and entered into the blazing sunlight.  
  
****  
  
Moving as fast as she could with out drawing too much attention to herself, Hermione swung the Invisibility Cloak off her shoulder and around her frame. She stayed rooted to her spot as Malfoy came walking around the other side of the lake; and in Hermione's opinion, he looked horrid.  
  
His hair was in tangles, his face was flushed red and he was practically dragging himself to the water's edge. It looked as though getting dressed was a burden for him as well because his robes were mussed and put on all wrong. As he trudged closer to where Hermione stood she noticed that his breathing was rattled. She could hear him struggling for air as he fell onto the ground just a few feet from her. Sprawled in ruins, Malfoy crawled on his hands and knees so he could sit right on the bank of the lake. Both just kept still for awhile. Malfoy sat, catching his breath and Hermione stood very still; obviously still scared of him and forgetting that she was not visible.  
  
"Stop, please," Draco whispered. He was clutching his arm again and Hermione knew why this time. It was because of the Dark Mark. But she still stared at him in curiosity. Who was he talking to?  
  
"Okay. Well, I better get out of here before I witness something I would rather not like to," she whispered to herself. Making sure the cloak covered all of her, Hermione began to take slow, silent steps back to the castle. But she couldn't help but hear Malfoy's next words.  
  
"I take it back, I don't want to be the one. I don't want to kill Potter." He said it so softly, so silently that Hermione hardly could hear him, but she did. Kill Harry? What was he talking about and to whom?! Thoroughly frightened, Hermione continued to walk on. She was right behind Malfoy when the wind carried down two other voices from up the bank. Looking in their direction, Hermione saw Harry and Ron walking toward where her and Malfoy were, both talking rapidly.  
  
"But why did she run off like that? It's not like Hermione to run off and not fight back," Ron said.  
  
"Well Ron, would you have liked to fight against Hermione?" Harry pointed out.  
  
"Oh, right. Well, we better find her so we can see Dumbledore."  
  
Upon hearing Dumbledore's name Hermione's attention was taken. Dumbledore wanted a meeting? If it was the Headmaster then Hermione didn't want to miss it! She had half a mind to throw off the cloak and call to Harry and Ron; but then what would Malfoy think if she suddenly appeared before him? Wondering what his reaction to Harry and Ron was, Hermione turned around to look at him.  
  
As the voices of her two best friends met his ears Malfoy's whole appearance changed, literally! His entire body stiffened at their conversation. He whipped around and panic filled his eyes as he saw that Harry and Ron's figures were growing slowly as they came closer.  
  
"No," Malfoy whispered urgently, clutching his arm again. Then Hermione gave a small gasp and backed away quickly. What looked like small, green electric lightening began to spread from the Dark Mark. It swept over Draco and altered his looks dramatically. His tousled hair was slicked back once more and his robes righted themselves on his body and looked brand new. He was blown to his feet and he no longer looked flushed and scared. A serene calm claimed his face and his skin resided to their natural normal pale color. The lightening passed once over his eyes before vanishing into the wind. Hermione just noticed then that Malfoy's eyes had been blue, but were now grey in the wake of the lightening.  
  
"Potter and Weasley," he muttered, as the duo came closer. Neither had seemed to notice Malfoy standing their yet. Looking back at Malfoy, Hermione was able to see him tug down his sleeve to cover the Mark, which was glowing green except for...What was this?! Hermione squinted to make sure her eyes weren't failing her. Being the clever witch that she was, Hermione saw a small flaw in the Mark on Draco. She had never seen one like his before. Among the glowing green of the skull and snake, a miniature slash by the skull's face was glinting red before going out almost immediately.  
  
"Odd," she muttered slowly. **** "Hey, Harry, look. What's Malfoy doing here?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head and walked forward.  
  
"What are you doing here, Potter?" Malfoy spat, returning to his natural nasty self. Harry shook his head and aimed for a more friendly approach.  
  
"Looking for someone," Harry replied.  
  
"And we could ask you the same question, Malfoy," Ron said from behind Harry, looking rather calm and collected.  
  
"You could Weasley, but I find no obligation for me to answer. I have the free will to come here," he barked. Hermione could tell that both Harry and Ron were utterly confused. Sure Malfoy was being as horrible as he ever was, but from his actions for the last few days this regular attitude seemed almost unusual.  
  
"Look Malfoy, have you seen Hermione anywhere here?" Harry asked. Ron's eyes widened and he poked Harry in the back.  
  
"Ow! What is it Ron?" he asked behind him. Ron shook his head in irritation.  
  
"Good one Harry, you don't even remember? Hermione looked Malfoy in the eyes too! If you mention her name he'll probably start acting like Seamus and all they other guys in the castle."  
  
"Well," Harry said turning to Malfoy, who was still standing as smug as ever, "he doesn't seem to be affected at all."  
  
"What? Weird," Ron stated. Hermione had to agree with him. It looked as though Malfoy was free of her spell. This made Hermione glad, no doubt, but how had he been able to avoid it? It was a spell cast by one of the Oracles of Prodigy, the most powerful beings to ever live, according to Dumbledore who was, with no question, always right.  
  
"Sorry Potter. I haven't seen that Mudblood anywhere and I better not. Unlike you I don't associate with filth." And with that Malfoy held up his head and pushed pass them, stalking towards the castle in the exact opposite manner than when he had come to the lake.  
  
"If he doesn't associate with filth then why does he have Crabbe and Goyle as pals, I ask you!" Ron yelled to Malfoy's already gone back. Harry laughed along with him. "Well, he wasn't much help Harry. Come on, we have to find Hermione so we can see Dumbledore."  
  
"I know, but where could she be?" Harry questioned, looking all around the lake area.  
  
"Right here," Hermione answered, pulling the cloak off herself. Ron jumped a little and Harry spun around quickly. ****  
  
"There you are," Harry said, stating the obvious.  
  
"Come on Hermione, we got to go see Dumbledore. He's waiting for us," Ron told her, grabbing her arm and tugging her along.  
  
"Ron," Harry said. Ron stopped in his tracks and turned to him.  
  
"What?" he asked, completely clueless.  
  
"Er Hermione-Ron and I have to tell you something," Harry said to Hermione.  
  
"Oh, that," Ron said, dropping Hermione's arm and hanging his head.  
  
"What is it?" Hermione asked, folding her arms across her chest.  
  
"Well, it has to do with what has been happening to you lately," Harry told her. He nudged Ron beside him.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," was all he said in response.  
  
"You mean, about the spell?" she assured. Harry nodded. "What about it?"  
  
"Ron and I think we have the solution to it," Harry continued. Hermione shook her head.  
  
"No Harry. The only way to break it is if my True Love announces his love for me. Now, I already know you and Ron don't particularly feel that way about me, and I'm relieved about that. So Crystal is already trying to find a way out of it through her magic," Hermione informed them. "So come on, we've got to see Dumbledore." She beckoned them to follow her.  
  
"Wait Hermione," Harry said. Hermione stopped.  
  
"What is it now?"  
  
"Er-" Harry looked to Ron and Ron returned his gaze. "How exactly should we do this?"  
  
"How would I know?!" Ron said, clearly on the brink of his nerves. Harry shook his head and faced Hermione again.  
  
Say 'I love you'.  
  
"What?" Harry asked Ron, looking back to him.  
  
"What did you say?" Ron said in turn, looking to Harry in surprise.  
  
Say 'I love you'.  
  
"What is it?" Hermione repeated, deaf to the voice haunting Harry and Ron.  
  
"Did you say that?" Harry asked again.  
  
"No! Did you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What are you two on about?" Hermione questioned in annoyance.  
  
Oh my god! Just listen to me and tell Hermione 'I love you'!  
  
"Who are you?" Ron asked out loud.  
  
The one who started all this.  
  
Silence.  
  
Hello?  
  
"You're....you're...." Ron stammered.  
  
"What are you talking about Ron?" Hermione persisted. She was becoming anxious to meet Dumbledore. She supposed it wasn't right to make the Headmaster wait so long.  
  
Do it now!  
  
"Hermione!" Harry cried in frustration, turning around to look at her.  
  
"What?!" Hermione yelled back.  
  
"I love you, I truly do. No questions asked."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Ron, you better do this too or the spell will never be broken," Harry said through clenched teeth.  
  
"But you already said-"  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"Fine!" Ron said, losing his nerves once and for all. "Hermione I love you! I love everything about you! I absolutely adore you and everything you are, used to be and will become for years."  
  
Silence.  
  
"You didn't have to do all that," Harry whispered.  
  
"Lost myself right there," Ron muttered back. Then they both looked at Hermione for her reaction.  
  
She didn't move in the slightest, also seemed to stop breathing as well. Her arms were still folded across her front and she was still sitting into one hip; the only noticeable reaction was that her eyes had gone very, very wide.  
  
****  
  
"Dumbledore knows," Voldemort hissed from his seat in front of the fire. "He has gotten word of the death of the boy Jakob through his spies." The Dark Lord turned in his seat so he could face Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy raised his head high at his master's gaze.  
  
"Yes, my lord?" he asked politely. Voldemort narrowed his eyes evilly but kept his tone level.  
  
"I wanted to ask you the extent of your son's knowledge in the Dark Arts?" he questioned.  
  
"I assure, master, Draco has been educated well above his station. He knows quite a fair number of spells, curses and potions, sir," Lucius answered. Voldemort smiled calmly.  
  
"The exact answer I wanted to hear," Voldemort praised. "You may go now Malfoy. I want you to alert Avery and Wormtail that the boy's death has been discovered. I want no further killings until I get what I want."  
  
"Yes, my lord," Malfoy said, then bowed himself out of the room. Voldemort watched him go before turning his gaze back to the dancing flames before him.  
  
"Draco," he hissed silently. "Draco, listen to me and obey your master."  
  
"Stop, please," Voldemort heard Draco plead hundreds of miles away at Hogwarts.  
  
"Why must I? You've always wanted this, haven't you? To work alongside your parents, aiding the greatest sorcerer in the world and becoming his most trusted servant? Since you were but a mere boy you have been fascinated by the Dark Arts; and your parents had to do little to convince you to.  
  
"I know how horrified you were when you discovered that boy named Harry Potter defeated me fourteen years ago. You hated Potter since and tried to pursuade him to befriend you on your first encounter, as to strike a whole in Dumbledore's heart. But when he refused you vowed then and there that if I never returned, you would finish him off for me. Now what has happened to that faithful Death Eater, I ask."  
  
"I take it back, I don't want to be the one. I don't want to kill Potter." Voldemort could hear the weakness weighing down in Draco's voice. Fighting the Dark Lord wasn't a wise decision.  
  
"Take it back? But why?" Voldemort asked in mock curiosity. Then abruptly changed to his usual sneer. "Are you growing weak under my hand boy? I don't need a coward on my side at the moment and have no hesitation to rid of you." This was a downright lie. Voldemort needed Draco, he was the only one young enough and intelligent enough to handle the spell he had cast on his Mark. To dispose of him would be a great mishap in the plan. Plus, there was still the question of the Balance.  
  
How is he doing this? He can control me with such power, and unlike the Imperius Curse I can't fight it, Draco thought, not knowing that Voldemort could hear.  
  
"You have much to learn dear Draco," he muttered. Then he heard and saw what Draco did. Harry Potter's voice was ringing through his ears. His and that idiot Weasley's son. Voldemort couldn't let meddling Potter ruin him once again. His plan was much too perfect for that.  
  
"Oh, right. Well, we better find her so we can see Dumbledore," the red-haired one said.  
  
"I cannot let anyone see you in such a state! Suspicions are rising as it is. Get up boy and I'll fix you," he urged, standing up in alarm, his power radiating from his body.  
  
"No," Draco protested, grabbing his arm where the Mark was placed.  
  
"Do not deny me boy! With the mistakes you and I have made I'm surprised that Dumbledore isn't sending out his cavalry on you. What with you falling under the Mudblood's spell and then fighting mine with it to call to her for help...I cannot have that again. It was a failure to me as well for not taking a closer watch on you. But no more! You will not get caught!"  
  
Then Voldemort flicked his wand and a hundred miles away it took form. Malfoy was changed to his usual state, making him appear normal; but the lightening passing over his skin left sparks of pain in their wake.  
  
"Potter and Weasley," Voldemort heard Draco say. His spell was in fine working order, Draco had no recollection of what has been happening to him temporarily.  
  
"That's it boy, go on about your business. I'll command you when the time is right," The Dark Lord hissed as he settled back down into his chair and continued to watch. **** Coming Up: A little more of this and a little more of that. Some more mystery with Draco and a little with Pansy, and what about the elusive Love Spell? Everyone in Hogwarts gets affected and everyone seems a little out of character for a long time, but reasons for the alteration in attitudes comes up later in the story. The meeting with Dumbledore is coming up and some very important facts are revealed. And what's with the scary little gift left behind for our favorite Mr. Weasley? 


	5. Break of Dawn

Chapter Five ~ Break of Dawn  
"Enough of this!" Draco Malfoy yelled, slamming his fist into one of the posts on his bed. The entire room shook under his anger, along with Crabbe and Goyle who looked puzzled at each other from the doorway.  
  
"Draco, are you okay?" Goyle asked tentatively. Draco whirled around on him.  
  
"Goyle! Crabbe! I thought I already told you I wanted to be by myself right now, did I not?!" he bellowed. The two boys just nodded in fearful unison. "Then get out!" They nodded again and then high-tailed it out of there.  
  
Draco watched them go and then cried out in anguish once more before slamming the bedpost again.  
  
"I can't take this anymore," he said quietly, trying hard to calm down. "Both sides of me fight for domination yet I want neither to win!" He clutched the bedpost with his hand, fighting the urge to slam into it again. But what Draco was saying was unfortunately true.  
  
Two very different sides of Draco were battling for complete control over him, yet he wanted neither to win for neither side was really him. There was the side that was commanded by Voldemort. Draco didn't know how he was able to control him so profoundly; even a being with his level in the Dark Arts would have some leeway in his spells. Yet try as he might he could do little to bend the will of him. There were rare times when Voldemort would mercilessly let his spell drop slightly, letting Draco have a small amount of time to be himself. This was one of those rare moments.  
  
Then there was a much more peculiar side fighting against Voldemort. As strong as he was, the Dark Lord still fought a great deal against this other side, as well as Draco. It was, (horrible as it was to admit it), a good side to him. It was a side Draco honestly never knew he had! It usually was the one that broke through Voldemort's spell, like when he went to Hermione for help.  
  
"That was haunting," Draco said painfully. Going to the Mudblood like a complete bloke was so embarrassing; but not as embarrassing as falling under her disgusting spell. Draco's face contorted in disgust at the memory. "I still can't believe I did that. Stupid Mudblood, Granger."  
  
Draco sighed heavily. He dropped down on his bed in frustration, turning his body so he could lean on the headboard. He despised both sides in the war for his mind: the horribly evil one and the disgustingly good one. He only wanted his own; the one he had lived with forever. First of all he didn't want to be good like Saint Potter and his beloved 'wannabe' grandfather Dumbledore, that would be entirely too weird. But Voldemort made him think things, do things that he didn't want to. He kept trying to persuade him to do something, he couldn't quite grasp it in his normal state but he knew it was something horrid that had to deal with a very powerful spell and Dumbledore's knowledge. And every time he came near Potter, Weasley or Granger the Dark Lord would tempt him to curse them, hex them...kill them.  
  
"But I'm not even like that," Draco muttered to himself. Sure he was nasty and loved to be higher than anyone else around him. Sure he had always wanted Harry, Ron and Hermione dead almost every time he saw them, but he didn't want to be the one to do it. To know he had their blood on his hands, their death hanging over his head...  
  
Shaking the thought from his mind, Draco pulled back his sleeve and looked at the Dark Mark that lay underneath. He stared at it for a long time, wondering why he had it and how he got it. He still couldn't really remember that night, just the light everywhere and the pain in his arm.  
  
"Like I said before, a few months ago I would have been proud to have you," he said to it. "But now I'm not very certain."  
  
Then something about it caught his eye. Puzzled, Draco focused his vision just to the side of the skull. There, right by the eye was a slash. A tiny line that was a completely different color than the rest of the Mark was placed there. Draco could never recall seeing one that had that. It was a deep crimson red while the rest of the Mark was jet black.  
  
"Odd," he breathed, inspecting it closer. His nose was almost touching it when he was loudly interrupted by a barging Pansy.  
  
"Draco!" she squealed, slamming the door open. Draco jumped to his feet in surprise, yanking his sleeve down over the Dark Mark.  
  
"Pansy," he muttered, letting a long relieved breath. "It's you," he said thankfully. This made Pansy smile.  
  
"So you're happy to see me?" Pansy asked delightedly, walking to him.  
  
"No," Draco said blandly, walking past her and fixing the cuff of his sweater.  
  
"I can live with that," she said, still smiling. "Why don't we take a walk around the castle Draco," she suggested in her annoyingly high voice. Draco thought for awhile about this, didn't he want to be alone right now? But then his arm began to burn again, indicating that Voldemort's hold on him was activating once more. He didn't want to be left alone again with him whispering in his mind all the time.  
  
"Yeah, okay," he finally answered. Pansy beamed wider and walked up next to him. Side by side, they left the Slytherin Dungeon and took a long, long walk around the castle, Pansy jabbering the entire time and Draco silently fighting the burning sensation in his arm.  
  
****  
  
"Are you sure that's all that has happened?" Leo questioned. Crystal nodded, but with a bit of hesitance. "Crystal, there's nothing else, right?" he prodded, trying to set a runway for anymore information. Crystal bit her lip.  
  
"Nope," she answered.  
  
"All right then," Leo said, getting up off the couch. Crystal did the same. "I'll go down into the dungeon and play with the spell a little bit. Maybe then I'll find a way to reverse it." He smiled up at his sister, and she returned it with all sincerity this time.  
  
"I hope you find a way Leo," she encouraged, patting him on the head. He barely came up to her hip.  
  
"I'm glad your back Crystal, I was getting lonely," he said, and then ran out of the room and down the dungeons with a smile in place. Crystal watched him go before biting her lip again.  
  
She hadn't told him everything that had happened to Hermione, everything that concerned Harry and Ron anyway. She never mentioned that she foresaw them to be her True Loves, which if they announced their love for her the spell would lift instantly. But after knowing that they would never do such an embarrassing thing, she lost complete hope. It was better to just let Leo think that only a spell would work on Hermione now, it would help his motivation to find one better.  
  
"But you lied to him again," Crystal said to herself. But she brushed that thought away. She'd have to deal with her self pity later. Right now she had another dilemma to figure out.  
  
Why had that Malfoy boy gone to Hermione like that? Why had he shown her the Dark Mark?! That wasn't supposed to happen! Crystal never even got a glimpse that it could have happened!  
  
"Why did he do that?" she asked herself again. Crystal had seen what should have happened in the library. Hermione was to be there alone until she left; Malfoy was to be in his dorm room trying to figure out what was going on. But instead he had gone to the library. Of all the other paths he could have chosen he had to choose the one that never existed; and this was a problem. If Crystal hadn't seen him going into the library, then he shouldn't have been in the library in the first place.  
  
"How did he do it? How did he go against the future like that?!" she cried in frustration. "There's something oddly different about that Malfoy boy, he doesn't act like a normal Death Eater would. At times he is as horrid as any of them, and then he'll abruptly change into a poor, defenseless human. I just can't understand it."  
  
Crystal just had half a mind to simply use her power and look into the future, but that would lead to even more tragic events. Going into the future would bring back the pain...pain that would rip at her mind and body again. And she wasn't sure if she could fight it yet. What if she returned to her insane ways? That would cause a terrible heartbreak in Leo. He loved her the way she was, normal. Not some nutcase sister who liked to torture people from her spot in the dungeon.  
  
"No," Crystal confirmed then, "I can't go into the future, not yet anyway. I need time to learn how to fight it, so I can't use my foresight until I have a couple of weeks break. Good thing Dumbledore isn't coming until January, I have enough time until he wants me to use it on Potter. In the meantime, I could try and master my other powers more, so that they aren't as hurtful as they currently stand."  
  
With her mind set, Crystal left the Gryffindor Common Room replica and went down to the kitchen to, for the first time in decades, make dinner.  
  
****  
"Er-Hermione?" Harry prodded gently. Hermione hadn't moved in the slightest since Harry and Ron had confessed their you-know-whats to her. "Hermione, do you have any comment...at all?" she heard him say.  
  
"Okay," she finally said, in a rather high and cheerful tone. She turned around very sharply and began to walk away from the two boys for reasons one would not expect. It seemed as though she was just anxious to meet Dumbledore or simply blown away by what they had said, but in fact it was because she didn't want them to see her triumphant smile.  
  
I knew it, she thought to herself, giving up on all chances to try and chase the thought away. For some odd reason, Hermione felt no embarrassment toward this thought, and for the smallest moment it worried her.  
  
"Is it because I'm glad that they return the feelings that I-wait a minute! They both love me! I can't possible return the emotion to both of them, right?"  
  
"Hermione?" Ron tried as well. He and Harry had run to catch up with Hermione's small but quick steps.  
  
"Yes?" she answered, trying not to grin or squirm in their presence. It now felt slightly odd to be caught between them. It seemed as though they towered above her, which, if looked upon the company, they did.  
  
"Did you hear anything we just said to you?" Harry asked. "Your acting like it was nothing."  
  
"Clearly," Ron mumbled. Hermione assured Harry with a shake of her head.  
  
"No Harry, I heard everything; and I'm," she stuttered.  
  
"You're what?" Ron helped, anxious to know her reaction.  
  
"Well, I guess I'm glad about that, but still very confused as well." She stopped walking and faced them both. "How did it get like this? I mean, we never thought of each other in that kind of way, not seriously," she said. And she could tell that Harry and Ron agreed with her.  
  
Of course she knew Ron had admired her for some time now, and she knew Harry always had this way of taking care of her. As for her, sure she steamed at the ears when other girls looked at Ron, and she couldn't help but see Harry in his wondrous hero light all the time and not melt; but never did she think it could lead to love.  
  
Harry and Ron didn't say anything, they just looked from her to the other and Hermione couldn't read their expression. It was as confusing to them as it was for her.  
  
"All right, I know what you two are wondering and I have to say this with complete honesty. I do love the both of you, I just don't know how I can," she finally said. She watched as Ron's shoulders straightened a little and Harry's eyes looked less blank, opposite of what they usually were.  
  
The trio stood there for a few more moments, letting the soft breeze lift their hair and cool their faces. None were looking at each other, yet all saw the look of relief resting on all their features. It was Harry who broke the spell the air weaved.  
  
"We better get to Dumbledore. He'll be waiting," he said. Ron and Hermione made no argument and followed him up to the castle.  
  
"As least one thing will be going right," Ron pointed out as the three reached the oak doors and pushed them open. "The spell on Hermione must have lifted now that we-you know, did our part." But this was speaking too soon. When Harry, Hermione and Ron walked into the Entrance Hall there was a huge queue of students loitering around in it, and everyone turned their heads when they heard the doors open. Hermione automatically took a step back when all eyes fell on them.  
  
"Hermione," Ron assured her from behind, "me and Harry said what we were supposed to say, remember? There's no more spell!"  
  
"Wait a minute Ron," Harry said, backing up a little like Hermione. "I think you spoke a little too soon."  
  
"Will you two just go? Dumbledore wanted to see us; did you forget or something?" It was obvious that Ron did not see what the other two did because he placed his hands on their backs and pushed them both forward, following close behind himself. There was a millisecond where no one moved in the slightest. The only sliver of action was Hermione tensing up, Harry casting a horrified glance at the crowd and Ron looking at first confused at the students and then terrified like Harry as he realized what he did.  
  
The next 30 minutes that went by went up in flames. Neither Harry, Ron or even Hermione for that matter were able to comprehend the mayhem that broke out so suddenly. All they saw when they were thrown to the ground were robes flying, limbs flailing and screams erupting from every corner.  
  
Every boy in the Hall, excited to see Hermione from a long, agonizing wait, flew at her in pathetic helplessness. They all launched as one, none of them actually reaching her, but moving with such force that they were able to knock her down. Ron and Harry were untouched by the mob (thankfully), yet their peace lasted for just a bit.  
  
Tired of Hermione nabbing their claim, the girls (who filled the hall equal to the amount of boys there), decided that this was the final straw. Seeing how Hermione was forcefully occupied, the girls, shallow as it seemed to them, found this time to go for two boys who had not been affected: namely Harry and Ron. No girl there had ever dared look so undignified in front of the opposite sex, but seeing as no one really cared at the moment they all flung themselves on the boys in a vain attempt to either actually take them or make the others jealous.  
  
Harry, trained with the Quidditch skills Wood bore into him, was able to evade the attack for a short while; gaining a couple of seconds safety. Ron on the other hand, being the Weasley that he was and adding complete uncoordination to that, was propelled to the floor in a mass of hair. He didn't even have time to scream as what seemed every female landed on top of him and began flirting, which to say was rather strange in the position they were in.  
  
As for the boy-who-lived, Harry you would say, got the worst of the hits. He was not bombarded to the floor like his best friends; in fact, he did not hit the ground at all. The girls that did not throw themselves at Ron crowded behind Harry. Shrieking to the note of a banshee, the girls seized his arms and threw him back against the far corner of the hall.  
  
Hitting the stone with the incredible force of the girls mixed with his lack of balance, Harry was half knocked out cold. He slid halfway down the wall, rubbing his head with one hand and trying to ward off everyone with the other. His vision blurred over and Harry knew this was more torture then Voldemort could ever ensue on him.  
  
Swooning and cradling his head, the girls of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, sadly Gryffindor and even Slytherin were on Harry in no time. They were checking his head and hugging him from all levels. Some held his hand and others whispered in his ear. Harry felt like taking a hot shower to rub off the strange feeling of slime they were leaving on him. When did Hogwarts students ever act like this?!  
  
****  
  
Ron was the only one of the three actually close to winning his battles. He would find new openings to scramble out of, trying with every ounce of might he had to reach Harry or Hermione. Mostly Harry because he really couldn't see Hermione. But everytime he got so much as three inches away the girls would grab him up and drag him back into the fray.  
  
They were more or less clawing at him than anything else, scaring him so hard that he wouldn't have been surprised if he lost his Weasley red hair and have it go completely white instead. When did Hogwarts students ever act like this!?!  
  
"Eww! Just get away from me!" Being that of a fragile fifteen year old girl, Hermione had nothing but her words to lash out to her attackers; but it seemed to be enough. The boys seemed to think that their actions would chase her away again, so they backed off a little, residing to just admire her from three feet away.  
  
There were some Slytherin boys making catcalls from the back of the mob, but a few of the other boys punched them out for Hermione. Hermione, herself, tried to walk free of the group and find out what happened to Ron and Harry, but her onlookers were so afraid of losing her again that they caged her in, all of them barely brushing her robes.  
  
"Harry!" Ron yelled from somewhere on the floor. Harry heard him, but couldn't place where the voice was from. His head was throbbing terribly now, and though Harry was used to crowds of people cornering him it had never been like this.  
  
"Oh Harry, does your head still hurt?" a Ravenclaw girl asked him.  
  
"Yes, thanks to you!" Harry bellowed back. He really didn't care who he was talking to, it could have been Cho for all he cared; all he wanted right now was to find Ron and Hermione and get out of there.  
  
"Why so angry, Harry?" another girl breathed in his ear. Harry swatted her away with his free hand.  
  
"Will you girls just please let me go?"  
  
"Why?" they all asked. One of them was fingering his Gryffindor badge.  
  
"Because of that!" Harry cried, pushing the girl away. He stood up abruptly and shoved past his captors. "If you don't get away from me now I'll conjure up a snake and make it poison you all!" Harry knew that this was completely rude and something he would have never done before, but drastic times called for drastic measures; and it seemed this threat worked. The girls all squealed in frightened unison and backed away as one.  
  
"Harry, please!" It sounded as though Ron was fighting the urge to cry, but when Harry looked toward his voice he only saw more girls. His head pounding with the increasing noise, Harry pulled out his wand and laid it flat on his palm so he could find Ron. He muttered a spell he knew well from last year, just altering it a bit by plugging in Ron's name.  
  
"Point me, Ron." His wand spun around frantically and then froze toward the north side of the group. Then it began to move slowly near the south, to where Harry stood. "Ron?"  
  
"Get off me, whoever you are! Harry, Harry please help me...!" Ron's disgusted voice broke through the mass of bodies and to Harry. Accompanying it was Ron's hand, extending out from the heap. Trying not to laugh, for it made his head ache, Harry reached down and with a tremendous tug, released Ron from the tangle of limbs.  
  
"Th-thanks...Harry..." Ron managed. He was gasping for breath next to Harry, doubled over and resting his hands on his knees. It looked as though his air supply had been pressured out of him by the weight of the girls.  
  
"Don't mention it," Harry answered, massaging his head. He looked at Ron's group of captors and his own. His still seemed frightened by him and Ron's looked as though they hadn't noticed Ron's absence. "This is bizarre. When have you ever seen Hogwarts students act like this?!"  
  
"I don't know," Ron said, straightening up. "But I've got a bad feeling about everything. All this, I mean. They're acting like animals!" He glared around the hall in astonishment.  
  
"I know, but we have to find this out later. Dumbledore is still waiting for us. Come on, we've got to get Hermione."  
  
"Okay," Ron answered. Harry led the way to the male population of the hall and heard Hermione's exasperated voice.  
  
"I don't even know who you are! Just please, stay away. N-no, I mean it, get back...NOW! Thank you."  
  
"Hermione?" Ron called over the crowd. He saw that Harry was in immense pain, so he decided to handle the saving himself.  
  
"Thanks Ron," Harry groaned.  
  
"Just paying back the favor," Ron answered, leading Harry to a safe alcove near a statue. The lump that had miraculously grown on his head could have rivaled a dragon egg.  
  
"Just find her quickly," Harry encouraged, glancing at the group hiding their best friend.  
  
"Easy for you to say," Ron muttered, though he made sure Harry was okay before venturing into the male fray.  
  
From his safe alcove, Harry could see his own pack of girls losing their fear and gaining the hungry glint in their eyes again. But wait a sec-what was this?!  
  
Harry shook his head to clear his vision, wondering if he was just seeing things due to his pounding head. He looked into their eyes again, sure that he was just imagining the golden haze covering the girls' eyes, but no; there it was. It was as though their vision was being clouded, clouded by a golden blanket that shimmered endlessly and let them see what wasn't really there. They looked like-like the boys that Hermione had put under her spell.  
  
"Ron's right, something isn't right here," Harry whispered. But he didn't have time to think about it because now they had spotted him and had claimed him once more as their target. Right away the squeals and catcalls started up as they ran to him again. Harry whipped out his wand once more and pointed it at them.  
  
"Please, just stay back! I did the Triwizard Tournament last year, and know some pretty descent spells right now; and I'm on my last thread to use them. I don't need anyone to push me," he warned, glaring at them all. Then two figures caught his eye from behind the group and on the staircase.  
  
It was Malfoy. Malfoy and Pansy. He assumed that they had both just descended from the upper stories and were horrified to find what lay before them. Pansy looked thoroughly shaken and Malfoy looked drained, angry and horrified. Harry groaned. He backed into the shadow, hoping Malfoy wouldn't see him. He couldn't handle his mockery right now. "Harry! Harry, heads up!" Ron shouted at the top of his lungs. Harry averted his attention to the boy mob where Hermione was coming for him at top speeds. Apparently Ron had given her one tremendous push to free her of the group and she wasn't able to catch her balance on time. She staggered towards Harry who caught her before she could hit the ground.  
  
"You alright?" Harry asked, concerned.  
  
"Yeah," Hermione said, breathless.  
  
"Hermione, where's Ron?" Harry questioned, searching the area for him.  
  
"I don't know. He grabbed my arm and tried to lead me out but the others snatched him up and attempted to pry his hand off me. So he shoved me out of the mob to save me. Oh, that was terrible." Hermione grabbed Harry's shoulders and hauled herself to her feet. Harry was still waiting for Ron to come out.  
  
"There he is!" Harry said, pointing past her. Hermione turned around just in time to catch Ron before he fell facedown at her feet. But he was much taller then her, so she went crashing backwards instead, knocking Harry back as well. The three fell in a neat stack backward, one on top of the  
  
other.  
  
"Thanks," Ron said to Hermione. He looked dazed and confused.  
  
"Back at you," Hermione forced out, talking against Ron's chest.  
  
"Get off me!" Harry yelped from under the two. He couldn't do much more then yell into Hermione's hair. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he added. The bump on his head had now increased in both size and pain, and the throbbing had reached his stomach, giving him a nasty nauseous sensation.  
  
Hermione scrambled to get off him, shoving a still confused Ron to his feet. Harry raised himself gingerly off the floor and clutched his middle.  
  
"You need Madam Pomfrey, Harry?" Ron asked, slowly coming to terms with where he was.  
  
"No," Harry answered hurriedly. "Let's just get to Dumbledore, and fast."  
  
"Good idea," Ron said, glancing around the hall. "We got to get out of here."  
  
And with that the trio fled from the Entrance Hall, all three thoroughly grossed out and in dreadful need of a  
  
long, hot shower.  
  
****  
  
"So my mother goes on and tells me that whatever the Dark Lord needs to do is up to him. It still frightens me, though. Even though I know my family is on the power side I still worry about You-Know-Who coming in and killing my family off," Pansy stated, obviously pouring her heart out to Draco. Draco had to cut her some slack for this, she was actually acting normal around him. He also thanked her for her endless jabber, for it occupied her so much that she never noticed his flinching of that pain coursing through his arm.  
  
"I understand what you mean," he answered, digging his nails into his skin to resist the urge to cry out. "Sometimes I get worried about Him too."  
  
"You?!" Pansy asked in astonishment. "What would you have to be scared about? You-Know-Who needs you Draco. I mean, what good would his acts be for if he disposed of you? For one thing, that whole incident that one night would have gone to complete wast-" Pansy stopped, and for good reason. Draco had halted a few feet behind her and was glaring at her with death etched in his every feature.  
  
"What are you talking about?" he asked, slowly, silently and fiercely.  
  
"Er- nothing! I didn't say anything. Just forget I ever mentioned- "  
  
"Pansy," Draco growled, stepping forward and clutching her hand rather forcefully. She winced in feared pain. "What were you on about? What other night? Do you know something I should know?!"  
  
"Draco, just please forget I ever said..." Pansy pleaded. But Draco was sick of pleading.  
  
"You know what happened the night I got this, don't you!?!" he yelled, revealing the Dark Mark on his arm. Pansy stared at it in panic. Draco had never shown anyone his Mark, except for Hermione, for he did not want people going mental and frantic at the sight if it.  
  
Draco watched as Pansy fought with the words dying to escape from her. She opened her mouth many times, but then closed it again, as if she was afraid of what would come out. She began to back away slowly, staring all the while at the Mark, mesmerized by it.  
  
"Draco-Draco, I promised. I promised that I wouldn't-I can't..." she whispered, and her eyes shone bright with fear.  
  
"What? What did you promise? Pansy, tell me," Draco dropped his arm and walked forward, so he was face to face with her. "Pansy," he asked in a softer tone, "I need to know what happened the night I received the Mark. You have to tell me." He looked at her with fire in his eyes, and he locked her with such an intense gaze that others would have burned into ashes by it. Pansy shook her head at him, but obeyed nonetheless.  
  
"They told me never to tell you; that you wouldn't take to it lightly. But your father told Him yes. He said yes to his proposal, and that it would take your conversion to his side easier," Pansy answered, her voice unnervingly blank yet her face looked so far away, like she went back into her memory and was explaining what she saw.  
  
"What proposal? Who's they? Pansy, what did the Dark Lord want of me, and what conversion? I would have gladly..." but Draco stopped. He was about to say that he would have gladly turned full-heartedly to the Dark side, but after what it was doing to him he couldn't have been sure. Pansy, however, did not notice his hesitation. She just went on with her words.  
  
"You were faltering, that's what they told me. Do you remember that night, Draco?"  
  
"No," Draco answered, unease hanging thick in the air. Up to this point Pansy hadn't been looking straight at him, but now she did, and the stare was cold enough to freeze Draco's fiery one.  
  
"That night, I came to your home. Our parents were talking in your kitchen, and we were in the living room, in front of the fireplace. We had been talking about school, what it would be like when we returned. I got thirsty, and so did you. I went to the kitchen to get us drinks, and you stayed slumped in the chair. I passed our parents on the way, and someone else was with them. "They told me to be quiet, and I didn't know the other person under his cloak; because he wore a cloak Draco, how could I have known?!" Pansy's voice was growing with excitement now, the adrenaline of the memory coursing through her, but Draco was fully understanding her words. Though they confused him, they also flipped a switch in his mind, therefore turning on a faint light on that night.  
  
He remembered opening the door to her face, and inviting her into his home. He remembered laughing along with her like the old friends they were while both their parents looked serious yet insanely pleased at him. He remembered hearing the small creak of the door opening again while he joked with Pansy in the living room; not even giving wonder to who the newcomer was.  
  
He remembered the dryness in his mouth and asking Pansy politely if she could grab him a drink, and how he turned away from her so quickly that he didn't see the cloaked figure come into the room. He remembered.  
  
"They told me never to tell you, that you wouldn't be able to remember anything. They told me you were faltering, that you were drifting away, and you would make me drift too. He didn't want that Draco. They could have used me instead but they said there was something about you. You had the power, not me. You had it.  
  
"He said the slash would work, the spell would activate and I didn't know until it was too late! How could I have known! Draco, you screamed! I heard it and I didn't know! How could I have known Draco...you screamed and they didn't do anything. But I saw...I saw what he did and I heard and they said don't tell you. I didn't tell you, and I won't!"  
  
Then she was silent, just staring at Draco in a winded way. Draco returned her gaze, terrible realization flooding over him.  
  
"I think you just did," he told her, dropping his arms to his side. "You just didn't say everything."  
  
"I won't," Pansy replied in a low voice. She wriggled out of Draco's grip and stood a good way away from him. She just stared at him, not knowing what to do while the horrors of that night still called to her.  
  
"Why won't you?" Draco asked quietly. "What was so wrong about that night, Pansy?" But Pansy was finished talking and turned around again, obviously wanting to resume their walk. She reached the banister to one of the stairs and stopped. She looked down at the ground beside her, waiting for Draco to come as well. He did, but with much reluctance.  
  
"I didn't tell you, and I won't," she repeated. "He needs to do what has to be done." Then she stepped down the stairway with Draco following behind her, his brow furrowed in frustration.  
  
****  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione ran at top speeds throughout the castle, not stopping until they hit the statue in front of Dumbledore's office. Hermione cried out the password and the spiraling staircase held within the wall was revealed.  
  
The trio quickly joined into it and soon found themselves facing the oak door that separated them from the Headmaster. Hermione and Ron were clearly out of breath and Harry was leaning against the door frame, trying hard not to pass out.  
  
"You sure you don't need the nurse?" Ron asked him, noticing a green tinge coloring Harry's face.  
  
"Later," Harry managed to say, "first things first. We need to meet Dumbledore."  
  
"I would gladly try and heal you up a bit Harry," Hermione explained as Ron pounded on the brass knocker. "But I haven't done much magic since the spell and I have no idea what side effects it could create."  
  
"That's alright Hermione," Harry mumbled. "I'll manage."  
  
"And you know I'd help you Harry but with my past experience with magic-" he trailed away, knowing that he needn't go on for all three knew he wasn't the best wizard alive.  
  
Then the door was pulled gently open and the wise, old wizard that made everything feel all right again stood before him. In seeing Ron, Hermione and Harry, Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.  
  
But they flickered for just an instance when he noticed that Hermione refused to look at him. But before he called her upon it he invited them whole-heartedly into his office. They came in gratefully and scrambled in. Ron and Hermione fell into the two chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk, but Harry couldn't stand sitting up any longer and fell into a soft sofa that was hidden somewhere near the back of the office by a window.  
  
"I have been waiting for quite some time for you three. I was afraid something happened to you," he said. He sat down at his desk.  
  
"Something did happen, Professor," Ron said, sitting up taller in front of the Headmaster. Dumbledore nodded, as if he already knew, and glanced backward to where Harry was taking in calming breaths from his lying position on the sofa. He was feeling much better, now that he could find somewhere to rest his head. When Dumbledore turned back to the students before him, he again saw that Hermione was looking at the ground, deliberately avoiding looking at the Headmaster.  
  
"What is wrong, Miss Granger? I feel great discomfort coming from you," he said, earning a worried glance from Ron and Harry. It was Ron who explained the ordeal at hand.  
  
"Professor, Hermione can't look at you," Ron explained. Dumbledore just turned his vision upon him, like a grandfather would look to a grandson.  
  
"I see Mr. Weasley. May I ask why?"  
  
"Well...it's because you're a man," Ron said, with rather a bit too much bluntness and not enough explanation.  
  
"I would hope so, but I still find myself very confused," Dumbledore answered with a slight laugh. "Please, proceed."  
  
"Okay," Ron said, clearing his throat, and then he was off. He explained all he knew about the spell, all the parts he had experienced along with what Hermione told him. She also helped with the story, interjecting her knowledge from time to time with her head bowed low. It took a surprisingly short while to explain about what seemed an eternity, but they got every detail about the story in within twenty minutes. In the end, Dumbledore, let out a long, long sigh.  
  
"Crystal Tiara," Dumbledore whispered, shaking his head. His smile was gone but the amusement still lingered in his voice. "She's always been doing this, did you know that Miss Granger?"  
  
"Yeah," Hermione answered. "When she spoke to me she said she used to put the spell on others, I heard her."  
  
"Yes, that's right," Dumbledore agreed, almost sadly. "She has done it to many others, but she has never seen the side effects it causes."  
  
"Side effects?" Harry mumbled from behind. Dumbledore turned to him and fixed him with a blue gaze.  
  
"Harry, I have this feeling that you are in need of healing," he said, placing an attempt at a joke and succeeding. Ron smiled along with Hermione. Harry just groaned in response. "Well then," Dumbledore said, turning to look at his phoenix, "Fawkes, please attend to Mr. Potter. Thank you."  
  
Ron watched as the red and gold bird of fire fluttered from its perch and went to heal Harry. They waited but a second before Harry came to stand next to Dumbledore's desk holding Fawkes on his shoulder. He looked fully rested and no longer green.  
  
"Thanks," Harry muttered to Fawkes, who let out one wondrous note of his song and returned once again to its golden perch. "But what side affects are there, Professor?" Harry asked, obviously not averted from his interests. The Headmaster looked to the ceiling, thinking.  
  
"Have any of your fellow students been acting strangely? Of course, I mean, apart from the students Hermione has looked at?" he asked, gazing at Harry and Ron.  
  
"Yeah," Ron answered first. "We were practically killed in the Entrance Hall by the entire student body!"  
  
"How?" Dumbledore asked, though Ron, Harry and Hermione were certain that he already knew 'how'.  
  
"They-well..." Ron fumbled with his words. He didn't quite know how to explain his fellow classmates actions without making it sound stupid or ridiculous.  
  
"They, sort of threw themselves at us," Hermione said, staring hard at the bookshelf lining the wall next to her.  
  
"I don't think I understand what you mean," the Headmaster pushed, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.  
  
"Professor, everyone started acting a little-er...lonely, if you know what I mean. So they all rushed at us, the boys on Hermione and the girls on Ron and I. They got a bit, um...close." Harry didn't know how else to explain the strange events only a few minutes before, and he was only hoping Dumbledore would get the point. Fortunately, he did.  
  
"I see," the wizened man said. He gazed hard at the ceiling. "And do you know why they acted so forceful?" he asked. The three shook their heads.  
  
"It was bizarre," Ron said. "Hogwarts students-actually, no one has ever acted like they did. They were like a pack of rampaging hippogriffs."  
  
"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said, nodding in agreement with him. "The reason they acted in such a way, even the females, is because of the spell the Oracle placed on Hermione."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Harry and Ron both asked at the same time. Dumbledore furrowed his brow in thought.  
  
"Hmm," he muttered. "What is the best way to explain this? Ah yes, I think I know how to make it understandable. As I have told you three before, the Oracle's powers are extremely advanced, very very great when in affect, especially the eldest one, Crystal. Well, the only way to say this is to tell you that the Oracles don't exactly know everything about their own powers."  
  
"What?" Ron asked.  
  
"Why?" Hermione wondered.  
  
"Well," Dumbledore resumed, "it's like this. Their powers are fantastic, too great that the world can't handle them, like I have said; and that is why your fellow students 'attacked' you. When Crystal cast the spell, she confined her tremendous power to one small, and in her case, simple spell; and she focused it on only one person. But her powers aren't accustomed to being imprisoned in one spell that requires little energy to activate.  
  
"The power she put on you, Hermione, has been fighting to expand, and it has finally succeeded. It is used to being free and affecting a number of things in its path. That is why the students have been acting strange, the power from the spell has reached out to them as well, causing their minds to cloud over and accept whatever the power tells them to do."  
  
"Power that is so great it can't even stay in a simple spell?" Ron repeated in bewilderment, not really wanting an answer to his question. Dumbledore just nodded.  
  
"Has it happened before?" Hermione asked, curious. "I mean, to all of Crystal's other victims."  
  
"Oh of course," the Headmaster assured. "That is mainly why they go into hiding. They fear for their safety along with the safety of others. With the first Oracle's life energy devoted to the Unforgivable Curses, who knows what her power could make you do. No matter how she disguises it or cages it, the magic will always be of the Dark Arts; but she has never understood that." Dumbledore sighed heavily, almost as if he were disappointed in a student or the like.  
  
"But I'm still confused about something," Ron started, sitting on the edge of his seat. "Like we had said before, we did what the Oracle wanted us to do and we told Hermione that we-...er...that we-..." Ron stammered slightly, looking from Harry to Hermione, who both returned his gaze.  
  
"That you love her?" Dumbledore finished slowly, a tinge of amusement in his tone.  
  
"Yeah, that," Ron confirmed. "And yet the spell didn't lift! She told us to say it, so we did, but how come nothing has changed? I thought the spell would diminish and everyone else who was affected goes back to normal; not the spell growing larger and more people get affected! Why didn't it work?"  
  
Harry, Ron and now Hermione looked to Dumbledore for the answer. Luckily for Hermione, the professor's face was staring at his wondrous bird of fire, whose perch was on the other side of his chair. He continued to stare in that direction as he answered, but his answer was no more than a guess of his, as all who were in the room could tell.  
  
"In my perspective, I would say that the reason the counter-spell did not work was because you both did it." He looked at the trio again and Hermione averted her vision to her feet once more, very much confused.  
  
"What?" Harry asked.  
  
"True, it does sound odd, but of what you have told me, Leo assumed that Miss Granger would only have one True Love, as most other people do. But to have two must have confused even the spell. That is why it affected the whole lot of Hogwarts' student body, rather than just a few people around you like it should have. I must say though, how all three of you could deeply love each other is quite a surprise, not quite a surprise, and wonderful news."  
  
"But Professor, I can feel it, and Ron loves Hermione just as much as I do, but how can it be? How can one person have two people who love her?"  
  
"That Harry," the Headmaster went on, "is probably because of all you have been through together. I imagine that rarely anyone in this world have gone through the adventures and hardships you three have gone through. The rise of the Dark Lord, the death of so many allies and friends, the lives of everyone around, the peril you have witnessed the others being put through, the pain you went through together, the sacrifices and so on. Never in my years have I seen such loyalty and faith put into friends like I have seen with you three youngsters.  
  
"It usually takes years and years to develop a friendship like that, but the three of you have somehow managed decades of friendship in only five years. Somehow, that friendship grew into love on the way. A brotherly love between Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, and romantic love between you two and Hermione. It was expected, I must say. You don't know how long the bet between Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout and I has been going on. We thought you three would never figure it out!" The Headmaster's eyes twinkled brightly, and Ron took his statement as a compliment rather than an insult as he would have normally interpreted it.  
  
"So what do we do now Headmaster? Professor McGonagall told us you needed to see us urgently because of the Oracles." Harry spoke his words almost silently, not wanting it to sound as if he were accusing Dumbledore of straying away from the subject.  
  
"Yes, about that," he answered. His face turned suddenly stern and serious, and the twinkle in his blue eyes shined like ice. "The Dark Lord is on the move once again."  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione all snapped to attention at this, the blood running cold through their veins at the sound of Voldemort's title. Dumbledore went on, either not noticing their panic or not singling it out.  
  
"I have gotten news from some of my own spies that he has been active lately and has killed a Muggle family. Might I add, it was not just some random family, it was one that he needed...wanted."  
  
Automatically and for no apparent reason, Harry's hand moved to his scar, tracing the thin line. He couldn't help but still feel the sting of Voldemort's spell when his name was mentioned, it was a natural occurrence that he did often, not being able to shake off the painful feeling.  
  
But at that moment even Voldemort's little sting was nothing compared to the blast Harry remembered Crystal setting upon him. The Cruciatus Curse done by her was equal in power next to the Dark Lord's, but somehow it tore through more than just his body. He shuddered without knowing he was doing so.  
  
"That is why I have called you here. Because of the death of that family, the need for Harry to see the Oracles is crucial. It is just as I feared, the Dark Lord has taken in the legend of the Oracles and put his faith in it well. The next portal to Enol will open in two days time; that is when we leave to travel for their home. I needed to tell you three about this rush of the plan and I need your approval of it quickly."  
  
He looked at them over his half-moon spectacles. The trio nodded without hesitation, knowing that whatever Dumbledore had to do was what he had to do.  
  
"Do they know about your change in plans, Professor? Are they aware that we are coming earlier, much earlier, than we said we would? Do they know about the Muggle family?" Hermione interrogated. Dumbledore shook his head.  
  
"I am not able to contact them within the time of one day. We'll just have to enter the portal and take them by surprise, I suppose. Time in Enol is of no existence, that's why the Oracles are still so young yet have been around for eons; so they wouldn't be able to get news of our coming or the Muggle family for quite some time," he replied. Dumbledore began to stand, obviously to lead them out and let them resume to lunch.  
  
"Wait sir," Harry said. Dumbledore stopped and looked to him.  
  
"Yes Harry, what is it?"  
  
"I was just wondering what Muggle family did Vol-, I mean, You- Know-Who murder? You said that it wasn't random, that he needed the family."  
  
Ron waited as intent as Harry for the Headmaster's answer, and Hermione focused all her attention towards hearing his next words.  
  
"Do you remember when I said that there was another who knew of the Oracles? That time in the hospital wing?" Dumbledore reminded them. They nodded in unison movement. "Well, that is the family the Dark Lord tortured and murdered. The father of the family went by the name of Jakob, and he was-er-close with the Oracles at one point."  
  
"How did he know them?" Hermione asked, hungry for more information.  
  
"I cannot say Hermione, I'm sorry. It is up to Crystal and Leo to confirm if I say anymore. The only thing I can tell you is this: Jakob was a muggle, with no magical blood in him, yet he was blood-related to the Oracles. He knew of them, but only as a memory. If asked about them, he could only tell you that he recalls knowing two young children and that they live somewhere where he could never go."  
  
Dumbledore let the silence linger for a few minutes, waiting for his students to soak in everything. Outside the golden sun rose high over the castle and the lake shimmered with its thousands of diamond edged waters. Peace lay well over the school, but the tension in the Headmaster's office was still prominent in so many ways, broken only by the steady breathing of all.  
  
Questions rammed against the mouths of their owners, trying with their every will to come out, to be heard. Harry, Ron and Hermione wanted to bombard the headmaster with 'I wonders' and 'what ifs', but they held them within, not wanting to use more of Dumbledore's time. It was Harry who broke the silence however.  
  
"So we leave in one day," Harry confirmed, nodding his head. Dumbledore returned his nod.  
  
"What will the teachers say, when we're not in classes?" Hermione wondered.  
  
"They will be informed, personally by me, that you three are given special acceptances to be out of lessons," the wise man said. Hermione smiled at the floor and stood up, her back facing the Headmaster.  
  
"And the spell?" Ron questioned from his seat.  
  
"It is still in effect, I am saddened to say. But if Crystal is working on an alternate counter-spell right now I'd say do not worry yourselves over it. Just stray far from crowds and keep to yourselves. Do not mingle with anyone until this is all over."  
  
"Thanks sir," Ron replied, attempting his lopsided grin and standing up.  
  
"Now let us go, lunch is in but a few moments and I am quite famished. I would be happy to escort you all to the Great Hall." And with that, The Headmaster opened the oak door and the four stepped out to join the spiraling staircase on its brief carousel journey to the corridor below.  
  
**** Draco picked absently at his plate, his head slumped over his hand in an undignified and un-Malfoy like manner. He flashed a glance at Pansy who sat next to him and she deliberately avoided his eyes. Malfoy really couldn't blame her; she didn't do anything that night when...  
  
The doors to the Great Hall were pushed open and Draco watched, eyes like slits, as Dumbledore, Potter, Weasley and Granger walked by. The trio sat down at Gryffindor table as the Headmaster proceeded to the High Table. Draco grumbled under his breath.  
  
Of course only Harry Potter and his idiot friends would need a special escort from the Headmaster to get into the Great Hall. Draco picked his head up off his hand.  
  
"Look everyone, famous Harry Potter needs his grandfather wannabe to take him to lunch," he spat, making everyone at the table turn to see what he was talking about. Glaring at them also, Draco absently pulled his left sleeve down to scratch his arm. When everyone turned back around there were many gasps from the students sitting near Draco.  
  
"Draco, what is that?" Goyle asked, pointing at his arm in shocked surprise.  
  
"What?" Draco asked back, not understanding his carelessness. He gazed down at his arm only to let the Dark Mark meet his vision. His eyes grew wide and he hastily shoved his sleeve back down and plunged his arm under the table. He looked back up and saw that most of the Slytherins were staring at him, and he wasn't able to read their expressions.  
  
"Draco, was that the Dark Mark?" one of Pansy's girls asked in a slow, hushed voice.  
  
"No," Draco said abruptly, almost cutting her off. He then went back to picking at his food, crushing his potatoes into bits under his fork.  
  
"Malfoy, don't deny it. You got the Dark Mark, haven't you?" Blaise Zabini asked excitedly, leaning across the table towards him. Malfoy shushed him up fast and looked over the other House tables, hoping no one else had heard. Gratefully, no one had.  
  
"No Blaise, you saw nothing. Now shut up and sit back down."  
  
"But Mr. Malfoy, we all saw it," persisted a feeble little second year.  
  
"Yeah, Draco. You've got the Dark Mark! No one has ever gotten the Dark Mark at such a young age, my dad told me. But if there were to be one, it would have been you, most likely. What with having a family like yours and just being you and all," Crabbe said. Draco just looked down at his plate.  
  
"Just forget it, all of you. I don't want anyone else knowing, if you can catch my drift." Draco was speaking through clenched teeth now, moving his eyes so that he could see the Great Hall with his head still bowed slightly. He was incredibly thankful that no one from the other houses had noticed the Slytherins' sudden interest in him and neither did the teachers.  
  
He let out a long sigh, placing a hand over his forearm under the table. But against his will, his fellow students only leaned in closer and bombarded him with whispered questions about his, in their eyes, good fortune.  
  
"When did you get one?"  
  
"Was there a big ceremony?"  
  
"I don't know," Draco mumbled.  
  
"Did it hurt?"  
  
"Why did you get it so soon?"  
  
"I don't know," he said more forcefully.  
  
"Did You-Know-Who put it there himself?!"  
  
"How did you get it?"  
  
"I don't know!" Draco bellowed, slamming his hand down on the table and rising to his feet. The Slytherins', along with everyone else in the hall, fell silent and stared at him. Draco could feel their eyes boring into his skin, making him flush a deep crimson red. He directed his gaze to the doorway, which was a good way away from him. He wasn't sure if he would make it all the way to them before he burned up from the humiliation.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, may I please ask what the matter is?" Dumbledore said from the front of the hall. His voice was soft and filled with concern, but Draco was only irritated by it.  
  
"No Headmaster," he snapped, not looking at him. He let his fork drop to his plate with a loud clatter before slipping out of his seat. "I'll see you all later," he hissed to his friends, and then walked as fast as he could towards the doors. He had barely taken a step before someone grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. Anger, along with everyone's eyes still focused on him, made Draco whip his head about and stare stone-faced at the person who had halted him.  
  
"Draco, you better quiet down this crowd before someone blabs on about your Mark." It was Pansy, and she made sure to keep her voice extremely low, so that it was even hard for Draco to hear her properly. But he didn't care about anything at the moment; all he wanted to do was to get out of there. He leaned in close to Pansy so that they were almost nose to nose. His grey eyes flashed and his Mark burned gently through his robes.  
  
"Why don't you quiet them down, Pansy. Be useful for once in your life," he replied, his voice edged with razors and cruelty lining every aspect of his words. Usually Pansy would get terribly offended by a remark such as this, but not this time. She just returned his cold stare, not saying a word. Taking her silence as his cue, Draco straightened up and strode towards the doors.  
  
He glanced back and saw that most of the Hall had gone back to their conversations, except for three. The golden trio, Harry, Ron and Hermione, were still looking at him in a puzzled way; and that was when it happened. The Dark Mark etched in his skin sizzled with an extreme heat, causing Draco to clench his teeth in pain. At the same time he saw Harry, very suddenly, bring his hand up to his scar in agony.  
  
He had his head bowed over the table and he was silently screaming with pain; Ron and Hermione were on him in seconds, asking what was wrong and looking around to see if anyone was noticing.  
  
"Stop it," Draco commanded to his Mark. "Not here! The Mudblood Lover has him in his sight! He'll know you're near or at least one of your minions, which could get me into loads of trouble!" This made the flame in his arm cease immediately and Harry to sit up, gasping for breath and holding his scar tenderly. Then a shrill, sinister voice echoed in Draco's head.  
  
"So you're a minion of mine now, boy?" it asked, a hint of amusement swimming in its mist. "And you care if we are found out or not? Hmm, there may be hope for you yet, boy. Don't fight me any longer, it won't be good for your health. You did it the very first time and I would have killed you then. Don't push me any farther, boy."  
  
And then the voice laughed darkly before emptying away and leaving behind a cold chill in Draco's body. He glanced once to make sure Harry hadn't eyed him as the cause for his scar burning, which he didn't, before leaning against the wood and slipping into the Hall.  
  
****  
  
Harry looked up abruptly with everyone else in the hall. Malfoy had suddenly sprung to his feet screaming 'I don't know' and slamming his hand on the table. It looked as though only the Slytherins knew what he was on about, because anyone who wasn't a Slytherin looked as clueless as he felt.  
  
"What's up with Malfoy?" Ron asked, leaning over to Harry and looking as puzzled as he did.  
  
"No idea," Harry said, his brow furrowed. He watched as the attention of the school was placed on the shoulders of Draco. Harry could have laughed at this. Malfoy always put Harry in the spotlight, humiliating him in front of everyone. Now it was his turn and he didn't seem too happy about it at all; but Harry stayed silent and watched along with Hermione and Ron as Malfoy made to leave. People started losing interest in him now and were returning to their previous conversations.  
  
"Well, he's leaving now-" Ron started.  
  
"Or was," Hermione contradicted, pointing across the Hall to the Slytherin table. "Pansy stopped him. Wow, they both look really angry. Wonder why..."  
  
"Who cares," Harry and Ron replied blandly, though they continued to watch Malfoy with her. Their arch-nemesis stalked towards the doors, glancing nervously about the Great Hall. He spotted them still looking at him and he quickly looked away in turn. He paused near the door, almost ready to walk out. Then it happened.  
  
Harry's scar exploded with fire, the heat reaching down into his body and scorching him from within. He slumped in his seat, leaning his forehead atop the coolness of the table. He wanted to scream out and make it stop, but his scar would not allow it. All he knew was that Voldemort's power was near and Ron and Hermione were just as frightened as he was.  
  
"Harry, Harry your scar!" Harry could hear Hermione try and steady the quiver in her voice as she laid a hand on his shoulder and comforted him with her words.  
  
"Harry! What in blazes is going on here? You-Know-Who can't be around, can he? I bet it's one of his bloody Death Eaters. It's alright Harry..." Ron told him, inhaling deeply. By the calmness of Ron's voice Harry knew that no one else had noticed his scar hurting, and it was a relief. He didn't want anyone panicking.  
  
"He's...he-her-here. Can...feel...here..." Harry tried to explain what was happening through the pain, but couldn't. Every time he opened his mouth his scar would just blaze greater than before.  
  
"What is it?" Hermione prompted, bending down to listen. Harry tried to repeat his words but still couldn't. Then it felt as though a great gust of wind whipped by and took along with it the pain. Harry sat up quickly, panting softly and blinking in bewilderment.  
  
"It's gone," he said, the astonishment obvious in his voice. "It just, left."  
  
"Huh?" Ron said, eyeing him in suspicion.  
  
"You were in a lot of pain," Hermione said, not understanding how Harry could be sitting comfortably next her when he was silently screaming seconds before.  
  
"You lost me," Ron interjected, shaking his head.  
  
"It just left," Harry repeated. He glanced around the hall, wondering how Voldemort's power could be anywhere close. He could feel Hermione's eyes watching him and knew that she somehow already knew what he was thinking.  
  
"It just came, and then went," she asked slowly. He nodded.  
  
"Like it...walked out the door..." Automatically both Harry and Hermione looked to the entrance of the Great Hall and saw that it was empty of any Malfoy.  
  
"It just came so suddenly," Hermione whispered, her eyes narrowed. It was her typical look for when she was busy putting two and two together.  
  
"Malfoy?" Ron said, catching onto their train of thought. "Malfoy. He has been acting strange for awhile."  
  
"Too strange," Harry murmured.  
  
"I looked him in the eye-" Hermione pointed out.  
  
"-and he's perfectly normal now-" Ron continued.  
  
"-but not normal enough for Malfoy. Don't take me wrong on this, but he hasn't been nasty enough towards us all year. Not that I'm not glad, but it's just-"  
  
"Strange," Hermione and Ron concluded. They were all looking at the doorway now even though Draco had been gone for a fair amount of minutes. Then Ron asked the question that none of them wanted to think about.  
  
"Do you reckon we should have told Dumbledore that he's got the Dark Mark?" he asked in a very low and serious tone. They looked at one another, searching for the right answer in one another eyes. No one spoke for ages. When the time had passed, Hermione opened her mouth, but did not answer the question.  
  
"I know he's got the Dark Mark, but how can Harry's scar detect You-Know-Who's power from it? He was never able to do that with Snape's. How is Malfoy's any different than his? How can You-Know-Who's power be present in his Mark so strongly and not in anyone else's? Harry, how bad did your scar hurt?" Hermione turned to Harry and waited. Harry thought for awhile, trying to compare it to something else.  
  
"Almost as bad as last year's, when He had risen and was calling his Death Eaters. Like when he touched the Ma-"  
  
"So was You-Know-Who calling him? I mean, however he calls his servants. I still think its mental, using a mark to call on your 'friends'. I always knew he was a crazy mook," Ron suggested, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
"But wouldn't Dumbledore have felt it as well? I mean, he's almost as sensitive to the Dark Arts as you are to You-Know- Who, Harry," Hermione said, bringing the subject into view. Harry glanced at him at the high table, but it looked as though he was perfectly calm and had noticed nothing.  
  
"Well," Harry said, looking back at Ron and Hermione, "there's something very unusual about Malfoy, we can't rule that out."  
  
"Clearly," Hermione and Ron answered together. It was a bit hard for the trio not to laugh at this, but they all beamed brightly. Harry shook his head in amusement and then stood up.  
  
"Come on, I think we better get going."  
  
"Why?" Ron wondered.  
  
"Because the guys are eyeing Hermione again," Harry told him, nodding his head toward the flickering glances from around the Hall. At this Hermione sat up abruptly and threw her napkin down gently.  
  
"Okay, we're gone," she said, trying not to laugh, and she hurried out of the Hall before anyone could stop her. Harry and Ron followed suit.  
  
"So what d'you reckon?" Ron said under his breath as they pushed the doors open. "Do we find out more about Malfoy or just tell Dumbledore?"  
  
"I want to find out more for myself first. If we tell Dumbledore we probably won't get a chance to check him out for ourselves. No, we'll wait."  
  
"Do we tell Hermione? I mean Harry, he really frightened her that one day when he caught her off-guard. Do you remember that time?" Ron asked.  
  
"Yeah, you're right." They made their way up the marble staircase and to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione was already a full staircase ahead of them and looked completely calm. She waved enthusiastically to everyone she passed, (all girls, thank goodness), and would every now and then lean over the rail and urge the boys to hurry up.  
  
"So, should we tell her?" Ron said, looking up at her as they climbed yet another staircase. Harry watched her too, thinking.  
  
"Yeah," he finally said. Ron looked puzzled at him. "Because if we don't she'll be really angry with us. And I don't think we want someone who knows as many hexes and has a psycho spell-caster on her case like Hermione to be mad at us. Would you?" He looked at his best friend, waiting.  
  
"Well, when you put it that way, then I guess I'm drawing a big no." Harry agreed whole-heartedly with him as they proceeded to their safe and comfortable common room.  
  
****  
  
Ron was standing alone. Standing alone in almost complete darkness. He could only see a couple feet in front of himself, but that was enough for him to know that he was in a tower. He was at the far end of it, where the rounded stone wall curved over. It looked oddly familiar, but he was pretty sure that he wasn't in Hogwarts.  
  
The tower he was in was extremely cold and he brought his arms around him to hug his cloak closer to his body...but there was no cloak. Looking down at himself, Ron held on to an astonished gasp..  
  
Instead of his Hogwarts robes, Ron was donning odd clothing indeed. He wasn't wearing anything that looked remotely like wizard robes or Muggle attire at all. He was wearing what looked like a bright, white tunic and trousers. They were made of a soft material he couldn't recognize and they were comfortable, but they weren't his and he had no idea why he was wearing them.  
  
"Harry," Ron called automatically, looking up. "Hermione? Where are you?"  
  
He looked around himself and got the same uneasy feeling that he had seen this place before. The stone walls were damp and decaying and it looked as though this place had been a dungeon at one point. Knowing that he couldn't just stand around forever but wishing he could, Ron started walking through the vast dungeon, his eyes darting from one area to another.  
  
"Hermione," Ron called again, though a little lower this time. Somehow he had this feeling that someone was listening through the darkness. "Harry? Is anyone out there? Where in blazes am I?! Ginny?" Ron was desperate now for anyone to be around, but he walked on, hoping that someone would be on the other side of the dungeon waiting for him. There was.  
  
Shackled to the wall and wearing rags that looked as though they had once been a stunning white gown, the girl that had come to him twice before hung limply from her manacles. She didn't seem to be awake, her head drooped down and her breathing was incredibly shallow.  
  
Ron stepped back on reaction of seeing her even though she was in no state to attack him. He looked frantically around again for any sign of human life other than this half dead girl before him.  
  
"H-Harry, Hermione! Bloody hell, Malfoy! I don't care who is out there, just someone!" But of course, no one answered him. Reluctantly, Ron looked back at the girl, the Oracle, and took the chance of speaking to her. "Um-excuse me. Crystal, right? Well, I didn't mean to intrude here, but I don't know how I got here. Do you...er...are you even awake?"  
  
Ron chanced yet another step forward and gave the Oracle the slightest nudge. She didn't wake up or stir or anything; quite the contrary, her shallow breathing stopped and she ceased to breath at all. When Ron noticed this his eyes grew wide.  
  
"Uh-oh.,"  
  
Then Crystal's head shot up and she fixed Ron with a penetrating gaze. He never saw it coming, and she had given every hint that she had gone from herself. Her movement was so fast, so cunning, so...unnatural.  
  
Her eyes glowed clear with their deep blue color and her face was set to one task. Ron backed away quickly, almost running, but something stopped him.  
  
What felt like a stab hit the back of his head, and Ron was losing all feeling in his body. His eyes were still locked on the Oracle, and with her stare came more unease. Ron couldn't feel it, but saw as his focus traveled upward and he was looking to the ceiling. It seemed as though he had fallen, and was now lying on his back. His vision was failing and he was somehow losing himself in his body.  
  
A something was seeping out from under his head, but somehow he didn't know what it was. The darkness was closing in on him now, and he heard people screaming his name.  
  
From above, the faint haze of what could have been a face looked down to him. It was moving in slow motion and he was certain it was a girl he knew, like a friend. Why couldn't he remember her? Someone else was calling him, a deep voice in distress. He knew that voice, it belonged to a boy, but it was growing fainter and farther, slowing down with every call of his name. That voice was familiar too, belonging to someone very close to him.  
  
The girl, she had brown hair, he remembered that, but couldn't he remember her? And the boy, the thought of tangled black hair and green eyes struck him, but it triggered no memory. Why couldn't he remember?  
  
Were the friends? His memory wasn't working; none of his body was working. The substance flowing from under him was soaking into his white tunic. It was his own, but he didn't know what. It was red, he knew. Something...something...red. And then his eyes were closing to death...and yet he didn't even know it was death...  
  
"HARRY!"  
  
Ron sat up abruptly from his bed, the moonlight from the night outside playing over his sheets. He was flailing with his bed covers and curtains, calling out Harry's name and trying to free himself from the tangle of fabric.  
  
"HARRY!"  
  
"What?" Harry asked, his voice drowsy and uninterested. "Is someone trying to kill you again, Ron?"  
  
"HARRY!"  
  
"What?!" Harry replied, with much more irritation than before.  
  
"Hey, what's going on here?" Seamus murmured from across the room. The lights were flicked on and all five boys in the room threw up their hands to shield their eyes. Dean stood by the door. Apparently he had activated the lights, but was still stunned by the sudden brightness.  
  
"It's three o'clock in the morning. We have lessons tomorrow. Who's screaming?"  
  
Neville pulled back the curtains on his own bed and squinted at everyone. Ron had finally freed himself of his bed tangles and had run to Harry panting hard. He grabbed the collar of his best friend's pajamas and yanked him out of bed.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Harry, shut up. Something horrible happened."  
  
"What?" Harry asked, prying Ron's hands off and straightening his shirt. "What's the matter?"  
  
"Well..." Ron began, not knowing how to start. He looked away from Harry and to his other roommates.  
  
"So, do you two have everything under control then?" Dean asked, completely not caring if they did as long as he could get back to sleep.  
  
"Yeah, we're okay," Harry answered. "We'll just take this to the common room." He grabbed Ron's shoulders and led him out of the room. When the door to their dormitory shut behind them Ron turned to Harry.  
  
"Harry, just to give you the heads up, this is about that Oracle girl." Ron twisted his hands together to stop them from shaking.  
  
"WHAT?!" But this time when Harry said it, his voice was in full out surprise and his face radiated fright along with astonishment.  
  
"Come on, let's just go to the common room," Ron muttered, and passed the girl's dormitory doors and down the steps.  
  
"Wait," Harry said, making Ron stop and turn to him. "Maybe we should get Hermione. Would you think she would want to hear this?" He waited for a reply. Ron thought about it, and then remembered the dream Hermione had had of him in his room. He nodded.  
  
"Yeah, we should. Go on Harry, you get her. I'll just be waiting downstairs by the fire."  
  
"Okay." And he watched as Ron descended slowly down the stone steps. Harry waited a few seconds, then lightly knocked on the girl's door. At first there was no reply, so Harry knocked again, a little louder this time. Still no reply. Taking in a deep breath, Harry pushed open the door softly and peered into the room. It was bathed in darkness, but Harry could see quite well in it.  
  
He crept in silently and clicked the door closed behind, not wanting the outside light to penetrate the room. Looking around, Harry noticed, with a touch of humorous jealousy, that their dormitory was much nicer than the boys'.  
  
Because there were only three fifth year girls in Gryffindor, they had a lot of extra space. Three beds lay around the circular room, each one spread out and giving each girl their own private space. He located Hermione's bed as the middle one and quietly walked to it.  
  
It was easy to pick it out because instead of hair products and make-up on the vanity like the other two, this one was stacked neatly with books and parchment. The trunk was open and the contents were organized properly, and the sleeper within the bed had made sure her covers had not a crease or wrinkle in them.  
  
Harry made his way to the side of Hermione's bed and peered down at her, trying to suppress and laugh. Only she would think it improper and disorganized if one was to muss their sheets in their sleep. Averting back to the situation at hand, Harry bent down and shook her gently.  
  
"Hermione, Hermione wake up. Ron and I have got to talk to you." He waited for a second, but Hermione had only turned her head so that it faced the other side. Harry attempted to shake her again. She didn't budge. Harry sighed. "Alright Hermione, you leave me no choice."  
  
Harry stood up and looked down at her. He pulled back the covers of her bed and brought her legs so that they hung over the side of her bed. He reached over, brought her to sitting position by pulling her up by her shoulders and staring at her face. Knowing somewhere deep in her sleep that something was going on, Hermione's eyes opened and she looked into the face of Harry.  
  
"Hello," he said, smiling at her.  
  
"Oh my God!" Hermione yelped, fully awakening now and jumping to the other side of her bed. "Harry! Harry, what are you doing here?! You're not supposed to be here!" she scolded, walking around the bed and right up to his face.  
  
"Hermione I-"  
  
"This is so embarrassing," Hermione interrupted, wrapping her arms around herself. Harry cocked an eyebrow at her.  
  
"Hermione, if you hadn't noticed, you're practically wearing the same thing as me," he pointed out. It was true too. Hermione had been accustomed to wear sleeping gowns like Parvati and Lavender in the first two years at Hogwarts, but found that they were very uncomfortable.  
  
To the extreme dislike of the two girls, and to Hermione's great pleasure of just going against their word, she had gone to sleep from then on in her regular home pajamas. But in difference to Harry's, hers were light blue and satin.  
  
"Though I must admit, yours do look more comfortable." He grinned at her.  
  
"Shut up," Hermione said. Then a noise broke into their conversation and both looked at the bed to the right of Hermione's.  
  
"Lavender?" someone called groggily. "Is that you?"  
  
"Come on," Hermione urged, grabbing her robe and Harry's hand and sprinting out of the room. Before Parvati or Lavender could see anything they were in the hall outside and had closed the door behind them. "What were you doing in there?" Hermione asked in silent outrage once again. She pulled her robe around her shoulders to keep her warm from the cold of the night.  
  
"Sorry about that Hermione, but it's about Ron," Harry explained.  
  
"Sorry? Harry, what would Lavender and Parvati have thought if they saw you by my bed in the middle of the night? You know how those two are," Hermione reminded him. Harry scrunched up his face in distaste.  
  
"Well it's not my fault that they think of things like that. Their minds are corrupted," he said. Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"Whatever you say, Harry. Okay then, if Ron is in distress then I think we better go talk to him," she said, starting off down the stairs.  
  
"Right," Harry replied, following behind her.  
  
"Ron?" Harry called, turning the curve of the stone stairway and looking into the common room. He was right behind Hermione, gazing over her shoulder.  
  
"Where is he?" Hermione whispered, looking all around the room. From where they were standing they couldn't see any sign of Ron. He was no where near the fireplace or the tables for working. The seat window was empty of him and the doorway was closed and abandoned.  
  
"He said he would be downstairs by the fire. But it doesn't seem like it. Wonder where-" Harry started, but was greatly interrupted.  
  
"Harry, Hermione, finally!" It was Ron. He had come whipping out from the corner right next to the stairway, so naturally they wouldn't have seen him right away. He looked distressed, with his tousled hair and his hands wringing themselves over and over. Harry had jumped a little at his outburst, but caught himself in time.  
  
"Hey Ron," he whispered, watching his nervous movements. "You ok-"  
  
"No." Ron said, cutting him off. Then he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Hermione placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and stood on tip-toe behind him to that she could see Ron over him.  
  
"You look like death," she said, taking in the bags under his eyes and the mess he was.  
  
"You have no idea," he answered, turning away from them and walking towards the fire. Hermione and Harry glanced at each other, worry in their eyes, before Hermione walked around Harry and lead the way to the fireplace. She fell onto the couch and Harry fell down beside her; but Ron stayed standing.  
  
Actually, he started pacing back and forth in front of them. He was acting the same way Harry did back in first year when they had returned from the Forbidden Forest.  
  
"Ron, would you calm down for a moment and tell us what happened?" Harry said, starting to slump over where he sat. It was three in the morning and they did have lessons tomorrow; and Hermione couldn't help but feel tired like he was.  
  
"What did happen?" Hermione asked Harry. Not having the strength, Harry pointed lazily to Ron.  
  
"Ask him," he said. Hermione looked to Ron and asked her question without saying a word. Watching her as he paced, Ron explained his dream with the bringing up of hers.  
  
"'Mione, do you remember the dream you had a long time ago, way back in the Burrow? You were in my room, and you dreamt about the Oracle girl. Remember?" He waited, pacing a little bit faster as she nodded her head in response, her eyes narrowing.  
  
"What about that?"  
  
"Well," Ron said, looking to the ground now. "I just woke up our whole dorm room because I had a dream very...very similar to yours."  
  
"Go on," Hermione said, very interested now. She sat up to attention as Harry began slipping off into sleep, literally. He was slumping lower and lower next to her, his eyes going out of focus. "I think you should be here with us too, Harry," Hermione suggested knowingly, and pulled Harry up by his collar.  
  
"Ah! Why does everyone keep doing that?" he complained.  
  
"Because we need you here!"  
  
"Hermione, I'm tired. I wanna go to sleep!" Harry whined, sounding as though he were five years old. But Hermione fixed him with her agitated stare and he groaned out loud. "Fine." He sat up straight and looked at Ron. Despite the events that had been haunting Ron, the boy was fighting the urge to laugh.  
  
"Potter, you're pathetic," he said, grinning broadly.  
  
"Oh, was that a joke Weasley? Sorry, forgot to laugh!" Harry shot back, smiling as he threw a pillow at him.  
  
"Harry, stop it," Hermione commanded, making Harry set down a second pillow which he was aiming to throw. Ron laughed at him. "You too Ron!" she said, picking up Harry's pillow and tossing it at him instead.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Okay, now let's just get this over with so we can all go back to sleep! Ron, what happened and what does it have to with my dream from way back when?" Hermione demanded, bringing in with her words her natural work atmosphere. Ron furrowed his brow, trying to capture every detail about his dream.  
  
"All right," he said, and explained the whole dream. As he spoke, Hermione's eyes were wide with amazement and Harry's were small slits of interest. No other voice was heard for a long time except for Ron's, echoing around the empty common room.  
  
The fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, casting everything in its wake in shadow. It brought a horrible effect to the story Ron was telling, especially the strangeness of how it coexisted with Hermione's.  
  
"Yeah," she said slowly, replying to his vision that the hint of a face had loomed over him while he was dying. "In my dream Harry and I were there. Harry couldn't move but was calling your name, that was probably the voice you were hearing; and then I went to your side. That was probably me you were seeing. You didn't recognize either of us?"  
  
"No," Ron answered. "I told you, for some reason my head wasn't working right. Maybe it was because it was cracked open, but don't look at me! You're the smart one, you figure it out."  
  
Hermione did not feel that she had to justify his sarcasm. She just shook her head at the ceiling.  
  
"But why would Crystal kill you?" Harry asked, but knew right away that this was a stupid question.  
  
"Because its her hobby. Wake up Harry! The girl is mental! I mean, look what she has done to us so far. She spooked you out the first time by appearing as a loon in blue light. Then she almost blinded me and showed me her own death; who does that, I ask you?  
  
"Next, Hermione is her target and practically shocks her to death by splitting her open with light, for goodness sake, and then letting her feel the emotions of everyone alive!"  
  
Ron was breathing hard now, gaining his own crazy look in his eyes. Hermione and Harry were now less afraid of Crystal and more afraid of Ron at the moment, so neither interrupted him. He was fine with it though, he was getting into the hype of recapping the tragedies.  
  
"No wait, it gets better, remember? Remember when she almost sliced me in half and said if my sister-MY SISTER-saw me, she would die! But let's not forget the mysterious voice you heard Harry. Do you recall that time? When she placed an Unforgivable Curse on you and let the power multiply itself by a hundred? But that time me and Hermione would die if we heard you!  
  
"But really Harry, at least she was sorry for yours. I mean, she did put you in a lot of pain. HOLD ON! BACK UP! Your DREAM Hermione! Where I...what was it? Oh yeah...I died! I died and Harry couldn't help me and we couldn't see you. That was a time in dreamland, I bet. AND THEN WITH THE LOVE SPELL!!!"  
  
Ron's bellow made Harry and Hermione jump in reaction. They looked around them frantically, hoping no other Gryffindors had heard which would be quite a miracle. But Ron was oblivious to the noise he was creating, for he just kept on going.  
  
"That Love Spell will be the death of us, you just wait! The guys will either kill Hermione in attempts to have her or snog her to death! And then those stupid girls who don't know the difference between love and war...PARDON THE PUN I say!"  
  
"Er- Ron, that wasn't a pun-" Hermione started, but Harry clasped a hand over her mouth.  
  
"Don't," was all Harry said. He knew that if you ever spoke out against an over-heated Ron you were in for a beating, no matter who you were; and this was the craziest he had ever seen his best friend.  
  
"Now she feels the need to show me my own death, because that would just help finish off the list, wouldn't it?! Show me hers, then mine, next will be 'Mione's and then Harry's! Bloody hell, let's go on to my sister's and all of Hogwarts! But really, I bet she's only being modest about her powers. Truly Harry, after all she has done, I really can't say why in blazes would she ever want to do something so petty as reveal my death to me and make me thick enough to not even know I'm dying!"  
  
Silence followed.  
  
Harry and Hermione looked at each other as Harry lowered his hand from Hermione's mouth. No words could be said between them that could explain how...passionate Ron had been about his speech. Ron simply watched them, his chest rising and falling rapidly due to his exertions about Crystal.  
  
"Have you got it all out of your system then?" Harry asked, his green eyes amused yet still a tad bit scared. Ron just nodded, having no more breath to speak. Then Hermione stood up, fixed her robe, and looked at the both of them.  
  
"Okay, obviously Ron is a little spooked right now and personally, I don't blame him. But we have classes tomorrow and neither of us has had a lot of sleep for the past few days. It's already..." Hermione turned her head to look at the grandfather clock sitting at the back of the common room, "...a quarter to four. We need our rest! Can't we just go back to our rooms and do this in the morning? The real morning, I mean."  
  
"She's right," Harry said, standing up as well. "We'll talk before lessons start and we'll even try to manage another meeting with Dumbledore if we can. Just try not to think about it Ron."  
  
Taking in his stunned silence as their cue, Harry and Hermione made to return to their beds. But Ron had no intention of agreeing with them and stood in front of Harry to stop them.  
  
"No! No, we can't go to sleep yet. Not yet," Ron said, his voice cracking slightly.  
  
"Er-yes, we can Ron. Now come on, let's go..."  
  
"Harry, no! Please, can't we just stay here a little while longer?" To Harry's utter bewilderment, Ron was looking scared. I mean sure, Harry had seen him frightened on more than one occasion, but like this...never. It was as though sending him to bed was like sending him to the hands of Voldemort himself.  
  
"Ron, are you scared to go back to sleep?" Hermione asked.  
  
Ron looked at her, and with no emotion whatsoever replied, "Yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because...because if I go back to sleep she might still be there. I don't know about you Hermione, but that dream was one of the worst ones I have ever had. I can't go to bed yet."  
  
"So what are you suggesting? Would you like to stay awake forever, or have Harry and me stay with you down here all night?"  
  
"Perfect!" Ron said, pushing them back towards the couch. "Why don't you two just stay here with me? Keep me company and if I drift off to sleep and she's there, you two will be here for me."  
  
"Ron, I was there with you in the room," Harry pointed out. "I'm just a few feet away. So come on! Why don't we just- "  
  
"You were too far," Ron muttered, sounding like a stubborn baby. "It took me awhile to reach you." He looked crestfallen at his two best friends, which made Harry in his part feel very guilty. Ron had always been there for him, so now he had to do the same.  
  
"Alright. I'll stay," he replied, falling back onto the sofa. Ron looked relieved that he didn't have to be alone and smiled.  
  
"Well, if you're staying Harry then I see no need for me to stay as well," Hermione said, trying to sound cheerful while inwardly planning to sprint out of there. But after taking one step Harry snatched her hand up and stopped her. "Harry, what?!"  
  
"If I'm staying down here all night 'Mione, then so are you," he told her. Hermione gave him a look that said 'You- idiot'.  
  
"But I-"  
  
"You are not leaving me here with Ron. The guy is crazy Hermione. He may be my best friend, but in the night he might see me as that Oracle girl and then You-Know-Who doesn't have to worry about me anymore because he would have killed me," Harry said through clenched teeth. "And you don't want to be responsible for my death, would you?" He waited. Hermione let out a long, long sigh and just shook her head. Harry beamed at her.  
  
"Good. Now sit. If I know Ron, he won't be going to sleep for some time now."  
  
"Great," she said sarcastically, and fell into place next to Harry.  
  
****  
  
It was morning at Hogwarts castle and the sun had just risen into the sky. Students had already woken up in every House and were all getting ready for a long day of classes. Among them was a small, red-headed girl by the name of Ginny Weasley. She was the last one in her dormitory to wake up and had now just finished getting dressed.  
  
"Another day of work," she muttered to herself as she grabbed her book bag and left the room. "Looks like I'll need Hermione for homework help again."  
  
Swinging her book bag over her shoulder, Ginny left her dorm room. As she climbed the stairs to the common room, (fourth year girls had their dormitory downstairs), she could here muffled giggles and smirks coming from above. Curious to find their reason, she hurried upward and walked into the circular room.  
  
Lavender, Parvati and Colin were already there. They were standing near the fireplace and looking at the couch in delight.  
  
"What's going on?" Ginny asked, a smile already creeping onto her face. The three looked up at her and she could tell something on the sofa must be amusing.  
  
"Ginny, you won't believe us if we told you. You have to witness it for yourself," Lavender explained as the other two burst into laughter.  
  
"Okay," Ginny said in puzzlement, as she walked to where they were and followed their gaze. What she saw made her fall on the ground in mirth. It wasn't really that funny, but to know what her brother would say when he woke up would be worth a fortune!  
  
There, fast asleep on the Gryffindor couch, was the famous trio themselves. They had always said nothing was going on between them, but by the way they were sleeping, even Ginny had to say it didn't look like it! Harry was on the far end, his head laid back against the backrest and his legs crossed over one another. His arm was wrapped around the shoulders of a dozing Hermione.  
  
Her head rested on his shoulder and she was hugging him for warmth; and across both their laps, his arms and legs sprawled about everywhere, was Ron. His head was on Harry's lap, his torso on Hermione's and his legs taking up the rest of the couch.  
  
It looked as though they hadn't heard anyone come by, or the muffled laughter right in front of them. They just continued to sleep, their chests rising and falling in unison.  
  
"Oh my gosh Colin, take a picture," Ginny said, banging his shoulder to hurry him up. Smiling broadly, Colin raised his camera and took a snapshot of the trio. All three girls giggled madly.  
  
"That's priceless," Parvati said, shaking her head and grinning.  
  
"Can't wait to develop this one," Colin said to Ginny,  
  
"And neither can we," she replied. "Okay you lot, get moving. All of you to breakfast now." The three looked outraged.  
  
"Aw, do we have to?" Lavender pleaded. "Can't we wait till they wake up?"  
  
"No," Ginny said, shooing them out the portrait hole. "If my brother sees you three standing there when he wakes up then you're in for the beating of your life! And don't mutter a word of this to anyone, because not only will you have Ron on your back you'll have Hermione and Harry as well!" she warned. Nodding enthusiastically, for they knew their temper, Lavender, Parvati and Colin turned to leave. "Just don't forget to make me a copy of that picture!" Ginny called to Colin, and he smiled wickedly at her before running down the corridor.  
  
Laughing joyously, Ginny turned back around to the trio. She stared at them, debating on whether she should wake them up or just leave them there.  
  
"If only Fred and George were here," she whispered to herself, suppressing a triumphant cry. "Oh the jokes they could pull on you, Ron." As if in response to her, Ron, who had been on his back the whole time, now turned onto his side. It just so happened that the side he turned on was the one facing Harry and Hermione. As he swung his arm around, he smacked Harry hard in the face.  
  
Ginny burst into laughter and hung off the armchair in front of her as Harry stirred awake.  
  
"Wh-what?" Harry grunted, shaking Ron's hand away and sitting up. During the night his glasses had slipped off his face and he couldn't see much around him, including a hysterical Weasley to his right. What he did see was that Hermione was sleeping on his shoulder and Ron was stretched out on their laps. "Aye! Ron, get off," Harry said, pushing him off with his free hand.  
  
"Huh? Ahh!" Ron yelped, as he hit the stone floor with a thud. Harry searched the area around him for his glasses, not noticing that he was still holding Hermione and Hermione holding him. Hermione in turn still lay fast asleep. Ginny resorted to laughter so strong it became silent. She began to fight for air secretly behind the chair.  
  
"I can't find my glasses," Harry groaned, starting to drift back to sleep. His head began falling backward again. But Ron's cry woke him up abruptly.  
  
"Oi! Harry, what did you do that for?" Harry watched as Ron poked his head back up from the floor. At first his features were angry, but then it cracked into a grin as he saw his two best friends. "Never mind."  
  
Harry gave him a suspicious look before looking down at Hermione and seeing their arms wrapped around each other.  
  
"Oh," Harry said, not really caring. "Hermione? Hermione, wake up. 'Mione!" But the girl did no more than squeeze Harry tighter. He coughed and tried to let her loosen up. "Hermione, let go..."  
  
"Looks like you're stuck mate," Ron said through a big yawn. He began to get up, not helping Harry in the slightest.  
  
"He better not be," someone gasped from behind the chair. "Because we've got lessons in ten minutes."  
  
"Huh?" Ron asked, turning to where the voice was coming from. Just then Ginny popped up from her place on the floor, a wide smile filling her face.  
  
"I said that you three have got lessons to get to. It's Monday, remember?" she informed them. She looked from her brother on the floor to Harry and Hermione on the couch. She let out yet another laugh. "Having fun over there Harry?" she said, shaking her head at him.  
  
"Not...really..." he managed to spit out. "Can someone pry her off me?" He looked pleadingly at Ginny, but she threw up her hands and shook her head.  
  
"No way. If I wake her up and tell her she's got nine minutes till classes begin then I'm going to be trampled over. Not a chance Harry, this one is on you." And with that she picked up her book bag and left the room. "See you at lunch!" she called joyfully over her shoulder, and then closed the portrait gently.  
  
"Well, looks like she's over your little encounter a few ways back," Ron said knowingly. But Harry wasn't listening, he was trying, in vain, to free himself of Hermione. Out of breath and running out of time, Harry decided to go for the heavy artillery.  
  
"Hermione, we've got classes in seven minutes!" he bellowed down at her.  
  
Hermione's eyes snapped open at his words and she let go of him immediately. She sprang to her feet, barely missing Ron, and yelled, "And you're telling me this now?!" before jetting up the stairs and into her dorm.  
  
"She's got the right idea," Ron said, getting up and helping Harry up as well. "We better get ready, and fast! I don't know about you, but I'm in terrible need of a shower."  
  
"Yeah, me as well," Harry agreed, and the two ran as fast as they could up the stairs and into their dormitory. 


	6. Tainted White

Chapter Six ~ Tainted White  
  
"You three look something horrid," Ginny laughed as Harry, Ron and Hermione came trudging towards her in the Great Hall. It was now lunchtime at Hogwarts, thankfully, and the trio had just barely made it through the morning.  
  
They had all rushed through their showers, for they had desperately needed them, and then burst through their first class at the exact time the bell finished ringing.  
  
Also to their good luck, their first class was not Potions but Transfiguration. Though they still got a scolding for being late it was much, much better than gaining a detention from Snape.  
  
"We are something horrid, Gin," Hermione replied, falling down next to her. Harry and Ron took their places across from them. "This morning was a nightmare."  
  
"I bet," the red-haired girl answered, smiling as she took a swig of her pumpkin juice.  
  
"Speaking of nightmare," Harry started, turning to Ron, "what happened with yours?"  
  
"Nightmare?" Ginny questioned, snapping to attention and gazing at her older brother. "You had a nightmare, Ron? About what?" But Ron waved his hand as if brushing the thought aside.  
  
"Never mind you Gin, it's gone now. Besides Harry, 'Mione's had it and she's just dandy," Ron pointed out, filling his bowl with steaming hot stew. The winter season was coming fast now and the chill weather meant a good serving of warmth was in need.  
  
"Yes," Hermione agreed, taking a drink from her goblet as well. "But just last night you were panicking about going to bed. You forced Harry and I to stay with you all night, not to mention making us late for today!" Hermione accused, giving him a look of sincerity.  
  
"Is that why you all were lying on each other in the common room?" Ginny asked, looking to them all.  
  
"Yeah," Harry answered. "Your brother over here was a wreck last night. He came screaming to my bedside in the middle of the night. Woke up our whole dorm room."  
  
"Thank you, Harry, for revealing all of that," Ron said sarcastically.  
  
"Are you okay, Ron?" Ginny asked, her concern genuine. Ron looked annoyed.  
  
"Yes mother, I'm fine," he answered, rolling his eyes dramatically. Ginny shook her head at him as Harry and Hermione laughed.  
  
"Well, I better be off then," Ginny said, picking up her bag and standing up from the table. "Hermione, would you mind helping me with my homework tonight? Honestly, Potions has got to be the hardest subject ever!" Hermione beamed at her and nodded an agreement.  
  
"Sure Gin, I'll be in the common room at seven."  
  
"Thanks for it," Ginny replied. She waved a good-bye to Harry and added to Ron, "and Ron, if anything else happens to you I want you to tell me as well! We were all dead worried the last time and I don't want it to happen again." Ron only grumbled into his stew, but Ginny took this as his answer and left with a nod.  
  
"Thanks a lot you two," Ron scowled, his accusation directed to Harry and Hermione. "I didn't want my sister knowing all that. I'm supposed to look out for her, not the other way around."  
  
"Well, I agree with her too," Hermione stated. "You should have told her more about the dream. She is your family Ron." Ron shook his head.  
  
"No way. That would just be me looking for trouble."  
  
"How so?" Harry asked offhandedly, sipping his stew as well. Ron put his own spoon down.  
  
"This past summer me and Ginny have been getting closer as siblings. Mum's idea. Because I'm the closest one to her age she wants us to be tighter than two peas in a pod; and we have been. We would go out and play Quidditch together, go shopping for Mum together, even have her teach us how to dance in our living room every Friday night! I mean, don't get me wrong here, it was fun.  
  
"I love my sister, you know that; but the first time I had a-a....vision, Ginny was really worried. I don't want her to get like that again, that's all. She's my only sister and a younger one at that. I need to take care of her, not the other way around," Ron repeated. He shrugged at his friends, trying to look like it was nothing. But Harry and Hermione knew better.  
  
For Ron, feelings had not always been his strong point. He never hesitated in showing them: fear, comfort, loyalty, caring, love; but to speak them out loud was a tad more difficult. Harry had to hand it to him though, the guy was getting better and better at expressing them than he was. Harry had this sense of keeping his thoughts to himself, unless they absolutely, positively needed to be known.  
  
"Because that's what you're supposed to do, you bloke," Harry replied, nudging Ron a little. Ron, in turn, grinned at him.  
  
"I know," he acknowledged.  
  
There was silence between the friends after this, but a silence that was comfortable nevertheless. The three of them ate their lunch quietly, savoring each taste and every now and then glancing up at the windows to the chill breeze blowing gently outside.  
  
"Care of Magical Creatures is next lesson," Hermione said, gazing contentedly out the window.  
  
"With Slytherin," Ron finished, glancing at their table. Draco was sitting there, looking much more normal than he had for the last three months.  
  
"We'll manage," Harry assured, trying to sound optimistic as usual. Ron and Hermione felt a pregnant pause after this, but in Hermione's case it was for a much different reason.  
  
Some how the day three months ago when he had threatened her life still lingered with her. It wasn't as though he hadn't done it before, she knew from Harry and Ron that he had wanted her dead when the basilisk was running around wild, but she had never felt such hatred and evil come from someone like that. The closest she had ever gotten to someone with such intensity was last year at the Quidditch Cup.  
  
When the Dark Mark rose into the air that night, Hermione had never known terror such as that. Not only did its sight strike her heart, but the cries of horror sprouting out around her didn't help with it at all.  
  
And the only time that could have rivaled the fear in her other than Draco wanting her dead was Draco wanting her help. How scared would you be, if the person who would have nothing more than see your lifeless corpse lay at his feet suddenly trap you against a wall, show you a mark of evil and ask for your help. That day, which felt like ages ago, kept replaying in her mind. Along with it came a huge question, what did he want help with?  
  
It couldn't be from the Mark, no way. Was that not the only thing Draco would have died to have? No, not a chance. He certainly did not want help from that...right? But if not, then what?  
  
"Hermione, are you listening to me?" Harry asked, waving his hands trying to gain her attention.  
  
"Hey-what? Oh, uh...yeah. Yeah-I'm listening."  
  
"Then let's go, the bell just rang and we need to get to Hagrid's hut," Harry told her.  
  
"All right then. Wait a second, where's Ron? If we have to go to Hagrid's then where is he?" Hermione asked, walking with Harry towards the Entrance Hall.  
  
"Hermione, he left a few minutes ago to grab his books. He left them in his room in the rush of things, don't you remember? He said so just moments ago."  
  
"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention," Hermione apologized. "I was just lost in thought, that's all."  
  
"No problem," Harry assured, pushing the subject aside. The two followed the crowd of Gyffindors out the doors and into the cool air outside.  
  
Yes, it was a chilly afternoon, but the sun shone brightly in the sky and reflected off the white, cotton clouds. The last Care of Magical Creatures classes had been bathed in sunlight, and with the intense light came intense heat; but today was a wonderful day to be outside.  
  
Also to their enjoyment it seemed as though the spell on Hermione had begun to tone down...a little bit at least. Walking next to Harry, Hermione chatted cheerfully with Parvati and Dean.  
  
Parvati never once glanced at Harry, who found this as a good thing, and Dean stayed incredibly civil. He still gazed at Hermione with clouded eyes and a grin on his face, but other than that he remained dignified and pretty much normal.  
  
"So where's the third part of the trio?" Parvati asked happily, looking around for Ron.  
  
"He went to grab his books," Harry informed, but then their conversation was cut short by the rude interruption of a certain blonde-haired, grey-eyed someone.  
  
"Get out of my way," Draco muttered, his eyes narrowed and Crabbe and Goyle standing to one side of him. Harry and Hermione only looked at him in anticipation, awaiting the usual insults that followed a command such as this. But none came, and he just glared at them, waiting as well.  
  
"Be my guest," Harry mumbled back, and he pulled Hermione aside along with him. Without so much as a sneer Malfoy swept past them along with the other Slytherins.  
  
"Just a little ray of sunshine that Malfoy, isn't he?" Dean commented, watching him walk off.  
  
"No lying there," Parvati agreed. "Come on though, Hagrid is coming up over there." And sure enough there was the kind half-giant walking joyously up from the lake. As the four began to close the remaining distance between them and the hut, Harry and Hermione noticed that Ron still hadn't returned.  
  
"What happened to Ron?" Harry asked, stopping in his steps. Hermione ceased her walking beside him but Parvati and Dean kept on.  
  
"I don't know, but he should have been back now," Hermione said, glancing at her watch. Harry looked at the castle, debating on something,  
  
"Should we go and find him?" he suggested. Hermione immediately disagreed with him.  
  
"Not a chance! We're already going to miss classes in a couple of days, we have to attend as many as possible. Don't worry Harry, when the bell rings we'll check around the castle for him." With that said Hermione grabbed his arm and urged him to follow her so that they could join the rest of the Care of Magical Creatures class.  
  
****  
  
"Ginny! Ginny, hold on a second!" Hermione called, hurrying down the hall towards the fifth year girl. Harry was in close pursuit of her. Ginny on her own part halted halfway past their corridor, her arm full of books and her bag hanging from her arm. She was looking puzzled at the call of her name.  
  
"Hermione, Harry. Shouldn't you two be at the other side of the castle?" Ginny asked as they came up to meet her. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"We were looking for your brother," Harry explained. "Have you seen him anywhere?"  
  
"Shouldn't he be with you two?" she questioned.  
  
"He was, but at breakfast he left to get a book for class and never came back," Hermione informed her. "Have you seen him in the corridors?" Harry and Hermione looked hopeful, but Ginny didn't bring hope to their wishes.  
  
"Sorry you two, but my morning has just been as Ron-free as yours," she answered, shrugging her shoulders. Crestfallen and having no idea where else to look, Harry and Hermione waved a goodbye to Ginny and turned to leave. Without any other words to say and having to travel a long way to her next class, Ginny shrugged at the thought of her brother missing and continued on her way.  
  
Just when Hermione and Harry decided to give up on Ron a very jumpy Dennis Creevey called out to them.  
  
"Hey Harry! Hermione, wait a second," The tiny third year tried to hurry past the other students, but his size did not help him at all. "Hey, could you move?" he asked, directing his question to the people around him. "I need to get to Harry and-what are you doing? Hey, wait. My bag's caught on your wand. Could you please stop? Please?! Stop! You're making me go the wrong way!"  
  
"Dennis?" Hermione called over the heads of the students.  
  
"I know where Ron is!" Dennis cried back, the origin of his voice lost in the flowing crowd of Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. But at his reply both Harry and Hermione looked at each other and then dove head first into the fray.  
  
"Dennis! Dennis, where did you see Ron?" Harry called, pushing past a seventh year. "Where was he?"  
  
"He's in the-OW!" Dennis yelled. He must have hit the ground because not far off Harry and Hermione could see some people tripping over something.  
  
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, concern flooding her.  
  
"Yeah, just got hit but otherwise I'm fine. But I need to tell you about Ron before something else happens."  
  
Then Hermione threw out a hand to stop Harry and pointed to the ground.  
  
"Look, here he is," she said with a small smile. Confused, Harry looked down and saw a black robe on all fours crawling next to him. Laughing at the realization, Harry bent down and heaved Dennis to his feet.  
  
"Thanks for that," he muttered, his eyes slightly crossed. "There were so many legs..."  
  
"Er-right. Anyway, where did you see Ron, Dennis?" Harry asked hurriedly.  
  
"Oh yeah, that. I went back to the common room a few moments ago to get something and I saw one of your books sitting on one of the tables. I went to go put it in your room and I saw Ron sitting on his bed. He was holding something in his lap. I don't know what it was, it was this really, really white cloth kind of stuff, like clothes I think. I don't know, but when he saw me he asked me to tell you and Hermione where he was if I ran into you. And that's it," Dennis explained, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
"Wonder what's up," Harry said. He looked down to Dennis to ask him more, but the youngest Creevey brother had already been pushed somewhere too far for voice to carry.  
  
"Well, should we go to him then? We've got sometime before Transfiguration begins," Hermione said, checking her watch.  
  
"Yeah, I think there's something wrong if Ron is sitting alone in our room thinking," Harry said, both smiling widely.  
  
"Okay then, let's be off."  
  
**** Crystal suddenly sat up quickly in her bed, a cold sweat drenching her sleeping gown. Despite the cold wind blowing in from her always open windows, despite her thin sheets and cold stone walls and floor all around her, Crystal was burning to the core. She was breathing hard, looking all around herself and trying to make sure she was still in her tower bedroom.  
  
She was in her simple bed, no posts, no curtains. Her white sheets were tangled around her and the sheer white drapes billowing from the windows on either side of her were still there. The oil lamp on the single wooden table across from her was still there and her gleaming white gown that she now wore everyday was laid out neatly beside it.  
  
White. Everything around her was white. Her clothes, her bed, her drapes, her lamp...everything. There were no other colors for her, there never could be. If everything around her wasn't white then danger was not far away. Since she had discovered her powers the only color she could have was white. Everything white.  
  
White was the only color she could see when her powers were in action, whether it be an intervention or if she was just casting a spell. All other colors dropped form her vision, from her memory all together. She always wore white, had her brother where white and had everything in her room white so she knew they were there if her powers unknowingly kicked in. And they had.  
  
Though Crystal had tried to program herself to not use her powers, though she had been faithful to herself to not use them, her sleep had claimed a different role. Whenever Crystal slept her own control over her powers let go temporarily and they freely did what they wanted. Usually they never did much, being exercised daily by her, but now they had become restless from her lack of use for them. Lately she had done something that she fully regretted.  
  
Even though an intervention took mostly mind intelligence and concentration of the body Crystal had accidentally done it in her sleep. She never had before because of all the mind work involved, but she guessed that her vow of powerlessness triggered its independence.  
  
When she was sleeping she could unconsciously feel her astral projection of herself lift free and travel the trillions and trillions of miles to Hogwarts. She remembered seeing everything, the doors whiz by, the staircases flashing past and the portraits opening. It was like watching a movie go fast forward, zooming through the details though all were there. She remembered going into the Potter boy's dorm room, seeing him sleeping soundly in his bed. She had been drawn to him in particular somehow; the knowledge that something was different about him still tugging at her mind.  
  
All indications of her powers made her assume that the intervention was to be for him, to let him see a future fate of destruction for himself, but somewhere along the line she was side tracked. Side tracked by Ron.  
  
When Crystal first 'met' Harry, Ron and Hermione, she automatically found something different about Harry and Hermione. With Hermione there was a sense of ever-knowing knowledge. Sure the girl was smart, but there was something more about her, things that went on in her mind that were so great and wondrous that no one understood them.  
  
With Harry, of course, there was the sense of a hideous past and agonizing future, yet the dear boy was the gentlest, bravest and simply kind-hearted person she literally had ever known. Those two stood out prominently in their trio, no doubt there; but the red-haired one did not.  
  
For some odd reason Crystal knew there was something extraordinary about this boy, something that she had never seen before, but she wasn't sure what. Granger was the mind, Potter the cunning and this boy...? What was he? There was a certain quality he had that no one else in the known universe could rival him in, there had to be. Why else had Crystal created fate to bring them together as friends?  
  
Since she had first seen them born their futures were decided, and she had altered fate to have these three wondrous humans meet and be friends, but she never did know what was it with Ron that made him special in the light of Harry and Hermione.  
  
But she had gone to him and shown him the coming of what would happen at their meeting, not intentional or planned of course. But why? Why him? What was in him that made him great in comparison? And for several long hours Crystal did not sleep, the wind howling around her and the answers drifting away in the chilling air.  
  
****  
  
Harry and Hermione hurried up the steps to the boys' dorm room. When they reached the oak door they didn't even bother with knocking. Harry simply pushed the door open and rushed in, Hermione close behind.  
  
"Ron, we were-" Harry began, but stopped mid-sentence. He was standing in the middle of the room with Hermione. It was oddly dark, and then Harry noticed the cause; the lamps were turned down and the drapes were drawn. Looking around for any sign of his best friend, Harry spotted that Ron's bed had their own curtains pulled closed, and he had a hunch that they broke off the sight of Ron.  
  
Pointing this out to Hermione, Harry walked over to the bed and yanked back the fabric. Sitting there at the head of his bed, his legs crossed and his hands clasped over a gleaming white something, was Ron. It was as though he hadn't even noticed Hermione or Harry come in, he was just staring at the clothing in his hands, no expression readable on his features.  
  
"Ron," Harry started, trying to look at him. Beside him Hermione came to stand, tilting her head and trying to decipher the contents in Ron's hands. Ron on his part said nothing, moved not once and never gave the notion that he could hear. "What are you doing?" Harry decided to just ask a simple question, thinking it best to not come out straight with 'Where in blazes were you this morning?! You had me and Hermione worried to high heaven you bloke!"  
  
"I came up here, after breakfast," Ron answered. Harry let out a long sigh of relief. At least he was talking to him, which was a good sign that he hadn't gone crazy or had been put under a spell. But his voice was toneless, and he never looked up from what he was holding. "I came in here and opened my trunk. I saw the book I needed, and next to it was this," he indicated the soft fabric in his hands. He kept opening and closing his mouth, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't, or didn't.  
  
"What is it?" Hermione asked quietly, her voice soft as a whisper.  
  
"It's a tunic. A tunic and trousers. There were neatly folded next to my book. They aren't mine," Ron said, his fingers stroking the clothing.  
  
"Where did you get them?" Harry asked, now knowing that there was something terribly wrong with Ron. The red-haired boy did not answer his question directly, but answered it nonetheless.  
  
"I don't usually have white clothes, never really was fond of white, but I had some. Like maroon. I don't like maroon." He stretched out his legs and looked up at them. His face was blank, wiped of anything; but his eyes shone bright with horror. But of what horror Harry did not yet know. "They were neatly folded next to my book. They were very, very white. Bright against everything else. Harry, I don't fold my clothes." And no joke was intended with his words.  
  
"Why are the curtains shut Ron? And the lamps turned down?" Hermione asked gently. Harry could feel her move from beside him and sit down at the foot of Ron's bed. Ron looked now to the window where a sliver of light was fighting to break in.  
  
"I wanted to see how bright they were," he answered, his voice slightly high and filled to the brim with sincerity. "They were so bright and I wanted to know if I could see them in the dark. I could. They glowed so bright, very bright. But they've stopped now." He looked down at the tunic and moved it around a little.  
  
Frustration and concern mounting higher and higher in his heart, Harry bent down and grasped Ron by the shoulder. He moved him so that he was staring him in the eye, his bright emerald eyes glowing themselves.  
  
"Ron, what's wrong? Why weren't you at lessons with us? What's so great about a white tunic?" he asked, his voice forceful yet not harsh.  
  
Looking at him, his eyes never leaving his, Ron turned the clothes over, so that the part that was hidden in his robes was revealed. Harry heard Hermione gasp at what she saw, and he looked down to see what was wrong. Ron kept looking at him, but in his hands now lay the radiant cloth, dark red blood splattered across the ocean of white.  
  
****  
  
Draco sat quietly next to Pansy during their study hour. He glanced around the library, seeing other students studying, working, whispering and chatting. He turned to Pansy sitting next to him, but she didn't notice because she was immersed, (rather strangely), in her book for Herbology.  
  
"What happened that night Pansy? What did-"  
  
"No," she answered, turning the page of her book and paying no more attention to him. Draco let out a long sigh.  
  
Every now and then he would spring the question about that night to her, hoping to make her answer him directly on accident, but it seemed that her stubbornness to obey the Dark Lord and every other person present that night was holding on fast, making sure she was never off guard.  
  
"Why won't you tell me?" he persisted, dropping his quill to the table and shifting in his seat so that he fully faced her.  
  
"Oh, I don't really know Draco," Pansy breathed, scanning a page with her finger. "Maybe because You-Know-Who and my parents and your parents will skin me alive if I ever said anything. Not a big reason, I know, but a decent enough one for me." She glared at him for just a second before setting down her book and jotting something down on her parchment.  
  
"How would they know if you ever told me?" he whispered, striving for some loophole for her to cross through.  
  
"You know your Dark Mark?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"That's how." Pansy flipped through a couple more pages before skimming through the text again. Frustrated, Draco pushed his seat back and stomped away to one of the aisles; Pansy said nothing and did nothing to stop him.  
  
Wanting to be alone, Draco went to the back of the library. He hid at the far end of the line of bookshelves and leaned heavily against the wall.  
  
"I just want to know what happened the night I got the Dark Mark," he grumbled, his hands balled into fists. "Why can't I remember?" With these words came small flashes of a memory of that night, tidbits of that tragic evening that he had already seen. The green light, a pale, cold laughter, luminous pain and darkness. But that was all.  
  
Draco squeezed his eyes shut harder, hoping to fall back into his mind and find more clips of his memory. When they did not come to his calling he relaxed his lids a bit and sighed darkly.  
  
"So what are our choices Lucius? We just perform a deadly ceremony like this on our own son and think nothing of it?" a voice asked, a voice slightly high pitched.  
  
Draco snapped his eyes open and looked around himself. He saw two Gryffindor second years standing at the other end of the bookshelf chatting quietly with each other.  
  
"What did you say?" Draco demanded of them, his pulse quickening and his eyes wide. The Gryffindors looked at him strangely, as though he were mad. They were a boy and a girl and seemed as though they had no idea what he was talking about.  
  
"Pardon me?" the boy asked, his voice deep and nothing at all like the one that spoke just moments ago. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Didn't you just say something?" Draco questioned, not pulling himself from the wall.  
  
"No," the girl answered, her voice high but too much so that it didn't match the one he had heard either. Casting him one last suspicious look, the two second years walked away to find a spot in the library where fifth years weren't hearing voices.  
  
Draco breathed in once, then twice, then three times, just to get his heart beating like regular again.  
  
"It mustn't have happened," he told himself, though he wasn't convinced at all. "Or maybe I've just finally lost it," he said, sliding down the wall and sitting against it. He closed his eyes once again and massaged his forehead, trying to clear his mind, to free it of any thought at all.  
  
"What else can we do Narcissa? Draco knows just as well as us that what has to be done must be done, no questions asked."  
  
Draco opened his eyes once again, hoping to see someone around once more who had said what he'd heard, but there was no one around and the voices continued to speak in his mind.  
  
"Lucius! He is our son and I know darn well that you care about his welfare, just as much as I. This is dangerous, for his life and his magical stance all together! The spell isn't fully thought out and I hate to admit it, but He isn't even sure if it will work correctly."  
  
Now Draco was certain he knew that voice. It was one that had been with him all his life, to comfort him since he was a child. It was his mother's. And if he was not mistaken, the other one was his father's, smooth as silk and dark as night.  
  
"Narcissa! I would think it wise for you not to say that so loud. Though the Dark Lord's ways may be dangerous, I have high confidence in him that Draco will be perfectly fine after the ceremony."  
  
"Perfectly fine? Perfectly fine?! Lucius, darling, you know I love you, but what you're suggesting is completely out of the question! Yes I agree, Draco may have been slipping, and yes he was losing his edge; but if we go through this it won't be my son in there anymore it will be-"  
  
"Quietly Narcissa! Now you know I wouldn't do anything to harm my only heir, but with the plan our Lord is forming there is no other way."  
  
Draco shook his head, his mind was pounding with the sudden remembrance of a conversation that had happened that night. He recalled being unconscious during the ordeal, and somehow it was coming back to him in a very peculiar way. He shook his head vigorously, trying to rid of his parents' voices.  
  
Though he wanted to know what they had been talking about the recollection of the conversation was painful, sending sharp blades of fire through his brain. It was as though the memory was fighting a cruel battle to get out, to be heard.  
  
"But Pansy had volunteered to do it! She wishes to do it willingly! Why not use a subject that is open to the spell and not one closed to it? I don't want that thing on our child yet; not until he is old enough to hold his own with it."  
  
Narcissa sounded distressed, pleading with Lucius not to let anything happen to him, to Draco; and though his father never showed it, it was always hard for him to go against his wife's wishes. It was sometimes even hard for him to go against his son's.  
  
I mean, the man was strict with Draco, no doubts there, and he certainly was harsh on the boy. But Draco had known it and seen it that, deep, deep down, his father had a vulnerable spot for his family.  
  
"Narcissa," his father said quietly. "You heard Voldemort himself, there is something different about Draco. Something that could feed the spell unlike anyone else can."  
  
"And what is that Lucius? What is it that can make our master so interested in Draco?"  
  
Draco was breathing in hard now. At first he had wanted the voices to leave, but now he was fighting for them to stay. He wanted to know, he wanted to remember.  
  
"What else Narcissa? What else could there be?" his father answered, his tone a low, venomous hiss.  
  
Draco couldn't keep still, he kept moving on the floor, gripping at the air, slamming his hands against the stone floor, shaking his head and kicking his legs. The pain was increasing rapidly as he forced himself to keep the memory going, to at least hear the last words, so some light would be cast against his darkened past.  
  
"Voldemort said it had to be Draco because he-"  
  
"Draco!"  
  
"What?!" Draco's eyes snapped open once again and his vision landed on a pale-eyed someone in front of him. "Pansy?"  
  
"Yes you dolt," Pansy answered. She had been bending over him but now kneeled down beside him. She looked at him with worry etched in her every feature, her brow furrowed and her eyes slightly narrowed. "What happened to you?"  
  
For a while Draco didn't say anything, he just stared back at her dumbly, trying to remember where he was and what he was doing.  
  
"What?" he finally asked.  
  
"Draco, what happened to you? You were gone so long so I went to find you. I walked past this aisle and heard someone moaning; and when I back tracked you were sitting here against the wall, squirming around and grunting in pain! What happened to you?" she repeated, looking him square in the eyes.  
  
As he stared back, everything he had heard came back to him. His mother's concerned voice, his father's cold yet soothing one. The event about Draco they were discussing, the Dark Lord, and something about him. Something about him that made Voldemort choose him for a spell and not anyone else, not even Pansy. But she had broken his connection before he could hear his father's final answer.  
  
"I-I..." he stuttered, his breath coming in deep gasps. He wondered whether or not he should tell her what he heard, what he recalled. But would she deny everything about it or worse, write to his father and the Dark Lord and say that Draco was coming closer and closer to the truth? If their master needed something done secretly, then he wouldn't take lightly to anyone invading into his secret.  
  
"Yes?" Pansy urged, but Draco decided against her and chose not to explain anything.  
  
"I-I got to go," he drawled, scrambling to his feet. Pansy stood up next to him, a very confused look surpassing her curious one.  
  
"But what-"  
  
"Forget it. Just forget," Draco replied. He pushed past her and walked out. Out of the aisle, out of the library and out of the castle. He needed to think, needed, once again, to try and figure things out; and behind him he left a very bewildered and highly concerned Pansy.  
  
****  
  
"Ron, where do you get that?" Hermione asked him again, her face chalk-white and her voice cracking. Her words spoke to Ron, but her eyes never left the gleaming white cloth, brutally stained by the crimson red blood.  
  
"I already told you, I don't really know. But I do have a hunch of who could have made it appear in my trunk." Ron's voice had gone back to normal now.  
  
The three of them had decided to skip Transfiguration in light of the recent events. Miraculously, Hermione did not protest but insisted on her part; more or so because things like bloody clothing weren't very common to them...unless it was the end of the year.  
  
"A hunch?" Harry repeated.  
  
He was over by the window, leaning one shoulder against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He cast a small glance to the white tunic which had left Ron's lap and now lay in the middle of his bed. Neither of them wanted to go near it now, the red too distinct for their own liking; too welcoming and joyous. Nothing about bloodshed made Harry think of joy.  
  
"My dream," was all Ron said in answer. He sighed deeply and turned away from his bed. He stood facing the bed post of Seamus' bed next to him. He seized it with both hands and began banging his head repeatedly against it, groaning all the while.  
  
From her own spot leaning against the warm rail of the furnace, Hermione rolled her eyes at him and withdrew her wand from her skirt. She pointed it at Ron's head, muttered 'Spongify', and then placed it back in her robes as Ron's head bounced forcefully back at him from the now soft post.  
  
"So you're thinking that Crystal put that in there? But how? How could she put a solid, physical thing in your trunk?" she asked.  
  
Ron regained his balance from when his head ricocheted off the bedpost before saying, "You sound so surprised Hermione. Would you like me to repeat my recollection of her past mishaps or can you remember them on your own?" He began pacing the entire dorm room, walking the circumference of the circular room. Hermione gritted her teeth at his remark.  
  
"Okay, I'll wave that aside and blame it on the thought you were traumatized by the clothing. Anyway, if you do look back you'll notice that every time she's done something she never physically touched us, never came in person and never altered anything real here. Besides the boys!" Hermione added as Ron was about to open his mouth to disagree. "If you look at it she just messed with their minds with a spell. And she's never given us anything either."  
  
"Except for a big, fat load of pain," Harry mumbled, staring out the window.  
  
"Here, here," Ron agreed in a low grumble.  
  
"But still Harry, how can she send something like that to Ron? Dumbledore said they were in a different world altogether, explain the science in that, I ask you," Hermione pointed out. Harry furrowed his brow, looking at her.  
  
"Oh right, I forgot they weren't here," he said.  
  
"But that was what I was wearing in my dream!" Ron cried, trying to pin some crime on the Oracles. "I died in my dream, with the whole mess of blood to go with it. Who else could have known about it besides us? Who else could be so stupid and pull a disgusting and disturbing prank like this? And what is my blood doing on it?"  
  
Harry now gazed intently on the tunic. The white that had not been tinted seem to gleam even brighter than before, but the ruby red of the blood stood out among it. "How are you sure it's yours?" he asked, still gazing at it.  
  
Ron stood still now, having stopped his pacing across the room. He wrung his hands together, trying not to look at his bed and what lay upon it. "I just know, okay?" he responded, walking over to Harry and sitting on the windowsill next to him. "I have this feeling, and I just know."  
  
Hermione watched with a small smile as Harry gripped Ron's shoulder in comfort. As in relief at the touch of something human, Ron let out a deep breath that he'd been holding and relaxed his tense hands. As she looked at them, without really looking at them, Hermione suddenly had a feeling that there was something still there in Ron's trunk. She pushed herself off the rail and bent down in front of it.  
  
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, letting go of Ron and walking to her. Ron stayed by the window, accidentally mistaking the warm beam of silver from the window as sunlight rather than moonlight.  
  
"I've just thought of something," she answered, looking at the contents in front of her. There were Ron's books, a quill, some parchment and a tie; all huddled together in a small yet oddly neat pile to one side of the trunk. The other side of the space was empty, probably because the clothes had been laid there. But Hermione was certain there was something there that Ron had overlooked.  
  
Harry watched her as she bent over the edge and inspected the space closer. "You're looking for nothing in there Hermione," he said. But when she straightened up she held a tiny object in her hand. It was small and circular, the color of nutmeg, deep and soft. "What is that?" he asked.  
  
"It's," Hermione answered, staring at it in wonder. "It looks like a-"  
  
But she was interrupted by someone opening the dorm room door. She hurriedly closed the trunk and stood up next to Harry, who, like Ron, now looked to the shining oak as it was cracked open the slightest bit.  
  
"Ron?" Ginny called, peeking her head into the room. When she saw Harry and Hermione in there as well she pushed the door all the way open and beamed at them. "Oh, here you two are! Well, I guess you already found Ron." She nodded to her brother as she pulled a piece of parchment out from her robe pocket.  
  
"Oh yeah, they found me Gin. Er-aren't you supposed to be in class?" Ron asked, trying to look like a concerned brother rather than a worried coward. Ginny only shook her head annoyingly at him.  
  
"No you bloke, my last class ended just five minutes ago. It's supper now."  
  
"Oh, sorry. I wasn't paying any attention to the time."  
  
"Hey Ginny, what's that?" Hermione asked, indicating the parchment she was holding. Ginny looked down at it and then smiled before looking at them again.  
  
"Oh yes! I was actually hoping to find all of you so I could tell you! I wasn't sure if you went to classes or not to get the announcement, but since you're here I'll tell you." She took a step forward and held out her hand with the parchment at them. All three squinted at it and saw a moving picture of maidens in flowing robes twirling and snow falling around them. "There's going to be another Christmas ball!" Ginny said.  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione's eyes widened and they changed their vision to Ginny instead of the flier.  
  
"What?" Ron asked in his first reaction of outrage.  
  
"Why?" Harry asked, also a bit astonished. Ginny shrugged.  
  
"No idea. The teachers just told us that Dumbledore wanted to have one, for his reasons to know only. The other professors aren't to happy about it though. None of them want to prepare for it and arrange anything or the sort. And you don't have to have a partner!" Ginny added, seeing the suspicious look cross her brother's face.  
  
"Good," all three said together. Ginny just laughed at them.  
  
"Okay, well, that's all I wanted to tell you. It's on Christmas night, naturally, and it starts at seven o'clock." With that said Ginny, blessed them all with one last lopsided grin, (compliments to Ron for getting her into it), and then shut the door behind her as she sprinted off to the Great Hall.  
  
"She's a lot more confident this year Ron," Hermione commented, looking at the spot where Ginny had been.  
  
"I think it was the bonding thing. Honestly, I'm proud that she's not so shy anymore, but now it's like having Mum around me constantly."  
  
Shaking her head, Hermione looked down at her hand, a small fist for within it she held the object she found in Ron's trunk.  
  
"So, what is it?" Harry asked, nodding his head at her hand. She looked to him blankly.  
  
"Don't know," she replied, holding out her palm. Harry bent down to look at it, lifting his glasses to have a better look; his glasses did not work well at such close range. The small circular something was minute, but just enough so as to fit on a finger.  
  
Harry guessed it was a ring, and though he did not know then, he was right. The ring was intricately woven, as the circle was created by thousands of tiny braids. He picked it up from her hand and felt it with his. It was extremely soft and he noticed that it was not made of anything solid, but with very fine threads of brown.  
  
"So what is it?" Ron asked, repeating Harry's own question. He then appeared at Harry's side and looked down at it.  
  
"It's a ring. I don't know what its made of, but it looks like thread." Harry tried to break the ring apart, to see how strong the thread was, but it was as though it were made of steel, too. It did not bend or move in the slightest, but when he ceased the tugging it was as soft as a cloud in his hand. "Here," he said, handing it to Ron.  
  
"What do I do with it?" he asked, holding it suspiciously.  
  
"Wear it."  
  
"Hermione, this isn't mine." But Ron put it on his ring finger anyway. "Strange," he whispered.  
  
Harry turned to him. "What's strange?"  
  
"This ring, it's rather warm."  
  
"Well, it has been in your trunk for awhile and it's been bathing in the sun," Hermione told him. Ron just nodded, thinking that she was most likely right. "Come on, let's just go down to supper."  
  
"But what about those?" Harry asked, pointing to the white tunic and breeches. "We can't just leave them there. Not with all that blood spilled on it, not at all." He walked over to them and held them in his hands.  
  
"Wait a second," Hermione exclaimed, marching up to Harry and pulling the clothes from his hands. "Look! There's nothing! No blood, no stain. Not even a tiny speck of red. It's all completely gone."  
  
"But how?" Harry and Ron asked, both looking at her in disbelief. But Hermione shook her head, not knowing the answer. This, Harry did not like one bit, because if so many things could render Hermione Granger speechless without a correct answer, it must be the work of a very powerful-or very evil- person.  
  
****  
  
"You look like death," Leo said, watching his sister as they ate their breakfast.  
  
You've no idea, Crystal thought, but did not say it aloud. "I didn't really get any sleep last night."  
  
"That's okay; just grab some sleep before we get to work today. I need you and all your strength so we can check this hypothesis on the spell. I was up late last night too, trying to figure out the diagram things. But I took a break from it and practiced my dueling!" Leo beamed at Crystal and she returned it five thousand watts brighter.  
  
She was relieved to see her brother so happy. He certainly liked her when she was sane, being able to speak with him and work with him like a regular human; and it wasn't as though Crystal despised the thought either. You just don't realize that you're stinking filthy when your brain's all messed up.  
  
"Did you do a Wizard Duel or an Oracle one?" she asked him, trying to prolong the subject, for she actually did enjoy it.  
  
"Both," he said proudly, sitting up straighter and taller. "I combined both of them to make a really, really neat one! Here, I'll show it to you after breakfast. But we need wands for this one, like a Wizard's Duel; that's how they combine together."  
  
Crystal had to hand it to him; Leo was getting to be one brilliant boy. To combine A Wizard's Duel and the Oracle one must have been quite a challenge. "Oh alright then. I'll grab a wand from your collection."  
  
For years now Leo had been creating his own wands, as he had been fascinated with Hogwarts and all. He crafted them from wood by hand and used her hair and other magical things for their cores. He especially liked her hair because the magic was incredibly strong in her and it helped the use of the wand as well.  
  
"Well, I'm finished with breakfast," she said, standing up from her seat. "How about you?"  
  
"Me as well," Leo said, taking a last swig of his orange juice. "Do you want to clear the plates or should I?"  
  
Crystal raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm capable," she muttered. "But I need to use my magic. It's getting restless now," she warned. Leo only shrugged his shoulders and left the room. He wasn't wearing any white that morning and he didn't want to take the chances with her powers.  
  
"I'll grab the wands then," he called from the hallway and then sprinted up the stone steps. Crystal looked to the task before her and set her gaze to take in the entire table.  
  
She did no more than flick her finger when all the dishes simply cleaned themselves and returned to the cupboard beside her. It wasn't a huge chore for her, and her enhancement of the Imperious Curse was hardly justified in it, but it felt good to use her magic again.  
  
But as she left the dining room to find Leo, Crystal had no knowledge that her own astral self had left her body during the simple spell and had traveled the thousands of miles to Hogwarts to leave a little something special for one, Ronald Weasley.  
  
****  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione trudged through the hallways to the Great Hall. Though they had skipped half a days worth of school, all three were extremely tired, both physically and mentally.  
  
"I'm beat," was all Ron muttered, his eyes out of focus.  
  
"Me as well," Harry agreed. He glanced at Ron. "You still got that ring then?" Ron lifted his hand and showed it to him.  
  
"Still there," he remarked. "And it's still very warm. I'd have thought it would lose some of its warmth, what with this castle heading into winter and all that, but no. It's as warm as ever."  
  
Ron just shrugged at the strangeness of it and kept on walking with his friends. Hermione hadn't even paid any attention to what he was saying, but just trudged lazily through the halls.  
  
****  
  
After escaping the interrogation of Pansy, Draco had hidden himself in an empty classroom to register what he had heard in the library. His father's quiet growl vibrated through his mind and his mother's full voice chilled his heart. The way the conversation had come to him was horrible; his head was still throbbing from it terribly. But his obsession with what happened that frightful night was growing larger, and the voices had only fed the obsession.  
  
Draco knew one thing, however. He knew that he possessed no special powers whatsoever, that was a given. He could recall the disappointment in his father's face when he discovered that his son was no prodigy, that he was no carrier of ability such as Parseltongue or a potential Animagus.  
  
But Draco also knew that something terrible must have been in him to make the Dark Lord choose him for his plans. He just wanted to know what, because even though he was partial to the Dark Side, the sacrifices, risks, and tolls that he had endured could make even the cruelest person think twice about it. This did not include Voldemort, for he was certainly not a person at all.  
  
Breathing deeply and leaning against the stone wall of the classroom, Draco closed his eyes once again and took a few moments to hate him thoroughly. "Draco, you are truly an idiot," he muttered to himself. "To think that you could doubt your own decision to follow your family. I hate you." He let out a low grumble and slammed his fist into the floor. The impact left a stinging in his arm, but it was only something to take his mind off of his problems.  
  
For quite some time Draco stayed in the abandoned classroom, not realizing that the day was passing by about him. It was close to dinner when he broke from his trance and he was angry that he desperately wished for someone's help.  
  
****  
  
Hermione began to fall behind Harry and Ron as they descended the final staircase. Her bag was hanging from her hand limply and she could have never remembered being so tired. She was very angry with Ron for keeping her up so late. Then Hermione noticed that her two best friends were already halfway to the Entrance Hall while she was still on the stairs. Lost in thought, she had accidentally been lagging behind.  
  
"Wait you two! Wait for me," she cried, holding out a hand and hurrying down the steps. Harry and Ron turned around and stopped as they watched her run to them. But Hermione's body didn't have the strength to move in such a way and she stumbled down the last steps.  
  
Her feet fumbling under already, Hermione was lucky enough to then trip on her robes, sending her careening to the side. She hit the door of a side classroom extremely hard and dropped her book bag as well. Hermione winced in pain as she slid down the wall.  
  
"Hermione! Are, are you okay?" Ron asked, walking to her side along with Harry. He stretched out a hand to her and she took it in the hand that did not bang into the door.  
  
"Not in the slightest," she answered, rubbing her arm vigorously. "But look at this. Now all of my things are scattered everywhere. This is ridiculous!" Her shoulders fell in defeat and she stared sadly at her books, parchment, quills and ink bottles thrown roughly around her and the door. She bent down to pick them up, and Ron and Harry knelt down to help her out as well.  
  
****  
  
Draco had just snapped back into reality and noticed the sun had left the sky and night was prevailing the world around him.  
  
"How long have I been here?" he asked the empty space before him. Draco lifted his wrist to check his watch but never got the chance. A loud thud sounded from the door next to him and he jumped slightly at the sound. Staring at the blank side of the door, Draco inched toward it and heard voices speaking outside.  
  
"Not in the slightest, but look at this. Now all my things are scattered everywhere. This is ridiculous!"  
  
Draco knew that voice immediately and he automatically scowled at its invisible owner. Stupid girl was complaining again, and though he had no idea why she was hot-tempered, Draco inwardly decided that it was nothing big compared to his problems.  
  
He heard the scraping of things moving over the stone outside and the now muffled sounds of whispers on the opposite side. Though he was not the spying type, (hey! This is Draco Malfoy! You probably think, 'duh, this dude is totally sneaky', but if you would know any better then you would realize that he always has someone else do something as petty as spying!), he pursed his lips at his juvenile decision and opened the door no bigger than a sliver.  
  
****  
  
"What happened to you?" Ron asked, stacking the parchment rolls together. He handed them to Hermione you stuffed them roughly into her bag.  
  
"Nothing," she replied, her voice sounding very tired. "Just the lack of sleep and too much energy wasted has got me down."  
  
Ron looked to the ground guiltily. "Sorry I kept you and Harry up so late last night. I was just a little spooked, I should have just forgotten about it and try to go to bed."  
  
"No, not at all," Hermione assured, taking her quills from Harry. "You had a right to be worried. I'm still not used to this late night activity. You would think I would be, considering the past four years."  
  
"And Ron should be used to his sleepless nights as I am. Never was good at sleeping with screaming," Harry added, earning a satisfied laugh from Hermione.  
  
Ron looked surly. "Hey, it was your godfather that stood over me with a knife in his hand. I was tired and it was dark! How would you have taken it if that happened to you?" Harry and Hermione only smiled softly at themselves and the three continued to gather the things.  
  
"Is that everything then?" Harry asked, handing over Hermione's Transfiguration book.  
  
"Yes," she assured, looking around herself. "There's nothing else here. I really want to go to dinner though."  
  
"Well, you can't at the moment," Ron replied eyeing her bag. The three did not notice the door behind Hermione opening just the tiniest bit.  
  
"Why can't she?" Harry asked, standing up and dusting off his robes. Ron just pointed to Hermione's bag and they saw a very large tear from one side to the other.  
  
"Oh for heaven's sake!" Hermione cried, throwing up her hands. "You two just forget it. Go on then, go to dinner. I'll be right behind you. Let me just fix this rugged thing." She shooed them away and the boys, who did not think it wise to simply protest, waved to her and then left for their meal.  
  
"Nothing," Hermione complained, pulling out her wand, "nothing ever goes right!"  
  
****  
  
Draco's eyes fell to slits when he saw Potter, Weasley and Granger all crowded about his door, mumbling tiredly and picking up school books and the like off the floor. But when his eyes rested on the back of Hermione's head a thought suddenly struck him.  
  
He remembered going to her one day not too long ago with his troubles. Surely it was because he was under some pathetic spell of hers, but he had to admit to himself that it had worn off a considerable amount before he went to her.  
  
"If anyone knew I went to a Mudblood with my problems it would be the end of me," he drawled. But he couldn't help but think that it wasn't so bad. He had gone to her once in a begging state in the hype of his distress, why not live up to it once more? Why not just ask the cleverest witch in Hogwarts to help him? She would be of great help...  
  
But what of his pride? What of his signature as the arrogant archenemy, of his place as the next greatest Death Eater for the Darks Arts? At this Draco chanced a glance at his Dark Mark, the jet-black shape looming at him from his pale flesh. He was already skeptical of what the Dark Arts were doing to him, so why worry what anyone would think?  
  
"I need answers," Draco said. "And by all means I am going to get some."  
  
Taking out his own wand, Draco pointed it through the space in the door and whispered the quietest spell through the crack. A long deep tear cut across Hermione's bag, stalling her leaving and getting her alone. Knowing that coming out and asking for her time would be useless, Draco swung open the door, yanked Hermione into the room by her arm and then shut the entrance closed before she knew what was going on.  
  
**** Thoroughly frightened, Hermione tried to scream but couldn't. She simply felt herself being dragged from the floor and brought into the classroom behind her. She had her back slammed against the stone wall of the room and she heard the door shut beside her.  
  
When she felt that she got her senses back, Hermione opened her mouth to let a yell, to call out to Harry and Ron. But a cold hand clamped firmly against it and shut her into silence once more. Out of the darkness of the castle, a face loomed out at her and her fear fell away to pure annoyance.  
  
The grey eyes, blonde hair, pale skin and cold touch told that she was, once again, pinned against a stone wall by Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Don't scream," she heard him say, his voice a mere growl. She rolled her eyes obviously at him and he let his hand fall to his side slowly.  
  
"Like I would be afraid of you," Hermione shot back, pushing him away from her. "What do you think you're doing Malfoy?!"  
  
"I actually don't know," he answered, and she found no hint of a lie in his tone. "But I heard you outside and I needed to talk to you."  
  
"Well," Hermione said, exaggerating her words and giving him her most dignified look, "I really don't want to talk to you! Has something terribly wrong happened to you over the summer? Because it's like you've forgotten we're enemies."  
  
"Look Granger, I'm coming to you in a hard time! It may not have been the most courteous way, but it was the only way to get you to listen to me!" Draco was yelling now, having lost his calm sense and had resorted to his usual tactics. But Hermione wasn't going to let hers down either. She just gritted her teeth and waited for him to finish. "I came to you once with the need of help and you ran away from me! Now our rudeness is even!"  
  
"I don't believe you! What is the matter with you Malfoy?!" Hermione's voice rose higher than Draco's, and now the two were close to killing one another right then and there. "You think that we're even? Not a chance! All my years here you have ridiculed me and my friends and have found every way possible to make my life miserable! And now that you have a problem, one, petty little problem, you think that forcing me to help you is perfectly fine? How thick are you?!" She was throwing her arms around in emphasis, and this only heated Draco even more.  
  
"Hey! I wasn't the one casting half the school under a love spell, or whatever you're doing! You corrupted me and it was your spell that drove me to come to you with help! You and you're pathetic friends pretend that you love to help people, but when I come to you with my troubles you turn away!"  
  
"You've got to be joking me!" Hermione leaned back against the wall, her hand on her forehead and her anger slipping slowly into hysteria. "Malfoy, there is a reason for me not helping you! Did it once occur to you that I might, oh I don't know, hate you?! You're cruel and you're foul and someone like you doesn't deserve help!"  
  
"Even with the Dark Mark burned into my arm?" Draco yelled back, his temper rising. He pointed vigorously at his arm.  
  
"YES!" Hermione yelled back. Draco let out a sigh and threw up his hands in hopelessness and stomped to the window across the room. "Malfoy, I shouldn't help you especially if you have the Dark Mark! It's your fault you have the thing in the first place. Did I put it there for you? No! Did you want it in the first place? Yes! Now, why is it my duty to assist you with this?"  
  
"You act like I wanted this," Draco replied, his voice a whisper again. He looked out the window at the star dotted sky.  
  
"Oh yeah, because it's so obvious that you didn't," Hermione mocked, crossing her arms and leaning into one hip.  
  
"Right again, Granger," Draco snapped whirling his head around to face her. "As a matter of fact, I didn't want any of this. Do you know what this thing does to me? The emotions I feel and the hatred I create is...I don't know..." He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the window. "You wouldn't understand."  
  
"Exactly!" Hermione cried, throwing up her arms again and looking to the ceiling in disbelief. "You do realize that you just proved my point?" She lowered her voice slightly at the silence from Draco. "Malfoy, the emotions and hatred you feel can't make sense to me, because ever since I've known you you've been nothing but a jerk to everyone around you. That's how I can't understand, and you just said so yourself. So why don't you just suck it up and try to get through your problems alone?"  
  
Draco turned to her. "You think I haven't tried? Do you think I haven't attempted to hide all this? It's not as though it's easy to hide the Dark Mark. People are constantly watching you, the teachers, the students, everybody. The only reason I'm asking for your help now is because I already showed it to you before. If I hadn't then we wouldn't be in here." He fell back and sat on the sill of the window, his light head hitting the glass with a dull thud. Hermione just gazed at him.  
  
"If I wasn't who I was, then I would be taking pity on you; but it just so happens I am me and I'm simply looking at a stuck-up brat who has hit one bump in his road and now needs help because he can't get up on his own. Malfoy, if you need help then I suggest you go to Dumbledore."  
  
"And show him the Mark?!" Draco raged, his surprise apparent. "Are you mad? Granger, sometimes you can be pretty stupid. I am not going to that filthy Mudblood-lover for anything. Not until the world ends and I find out there is a God."  
  
Forgetting who he was speaking to, Draco scowled at the thought of Dumbledore and shook his head. Hermione, on the other hand, was steaming at the ears and her hands were clenched tight into fists. Her knuckles were turning white but she tried to keep her voice from erupting.  
  
"Well then, dear Malfoy, I guess there is no helping you. If you can't go to Dumbledore, a fair, honest and great Headmaster, than I guess you can't rely on me either. Seeing as I'm a filthy Mudblood." Spinning on her heel, Hermione turned and reached for the door knob.  
  
"Granger, wait," Draco called, jumping from his seat and understanding that he had just opened his mouth and said the exact thing that would chase her off.  
  
"Why should I?" she snapped. She pulled the door open but Draco ran to her side and extended an arm past her and shut the door again. "What is wrong with you?!" she wailed, glaring at him.  
  
"I wasn't thinking when I said that," he explained, looking to the floor. Hermione was physically taken aback by his remorse. "What?" he asked, as she took more than one step back.  
  
"You sound...sorry," she said, looking at him with narrowed eyes. Draco lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"Aren't I supposed to be?" he asked. He then looked at her funny. She was looking at him strangely, as though debating something about him inside herself. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I was actually considering helping you," she explained, looking him up and down.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Hermione took awhile, looking him up and down and deeply arguing with herself whether or not to aid him. Draco Malfoy, on his part, felt thoroughly uncomfortable. First of all he was asking someone for help, and Granger for that matter. Then there was the feeling that he had felt and sounded sorry.  
  
It was a foreign feeling to him and he didn't like it one bit.  
  
"Well?" he asked, trying to sound obnoxious and cruel again, but was only able to get out a squeak. Hermione gave him a glance, and then opened the door. The light from the corridor spilled onto her face and he could see her usual matter-of-fact look staring at him.  
  
"I hate my parents," she replied, still staring at him. This caught Draco a bit off guard.  
  
"Er-" he said, narrowing his eyes. "And I care about that because?"  
  
"Because they raised me right and I'm going to help you. Goodness I can't believe I'm doing this."  
  
"Really?" Draco questioned, still caught off guard.  
  
"But I can't now. Not until later on," Hermione said, pulling the door open wider and stepping out into the hallway.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I'm leaving somewhere tomorrow," she answered. Then she was surprised to see Draco actually smile and then laugh a little. "What's the matter with you?"  
  
"You, actually miss a day of school? That's rich," he said, shaking his head. Hermione wasn't humored.  
  
"Well good fun for you then! But while I'm gone I have one piece of advice to give you, 'go to Dumbledore'! As much as you hate him, Malfoy, he'll help you. No matter what. Even if you have that-thing...on your arm. Simply go to him and tell him what you told me, and I assure you he'll help."  
  
Draco just rolled his eyes and waved his hand, as if brushing the thought aside. "Whatever. But are you going to tell anyone else about this?"  
  
"Of course," she said, as though otherwise would be out of the question.  
  
"You are?!"  
  
"I'm telling Harry and Ron!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You know you ask that a lo-"  
  
"Why?!"  
  
"Because," Hermione told him, "I still don't trust you! And though those two hate you to the brim, I know they'll help because I asked them too. Besides, it has to do with detective work and vanquishing the Dark Arts, of course they'll help. Plus, they could have loads of fun just humiliating you all day."  
  
"Wait, I don't want to vanquish any Dark Arts!" Draco declared. Hermione only snorted.  
  
"Yeah, sure you don't," she said, leaving Malfoy, once more for the viewers, with a lot of things to ponder later on.  
  
****  
  
"Hey, look," Ron said, spotting Dumbledore first and jerking his head in his direction. "Dumbledore's coming."  
  
"I think he wants to talk to us," Harry suggested, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
Hermione sat there watching the Headmaster glide to their seats. She had gotten to dinner late, due to Draco, but had finished her meal quite early. "About tomorrow, you think?" she piped in.  
  
"Couldn't be anything else." And Ron was right, for Dumbledore politely asked them to follow him into the Entrance Hall to discuss their journey for the next coming sun.  
  
Out in the hall, before anyone of them could take so much as a breath, Ron blurted out that Crystal had come to him the other night and then left him a present of white clothing and a peculiar ring. The Headmaster's expression actually changed on this; he looked a tad bit worried when Ron held up his hand bearing the evidence.  
  
"Strange indeed," he said, twiddling his fingers. "Very, very strange, though I guess we shall figure that out later, I think. When we reach the Oracles, for certain. But for now let us press to more important matters. Tomorrow morning at seven o'clock I want you three to come dressed and ready to my office for a long journey. Traveling from this world to another so remote as theirs will not be quick. It will take no less than fourteen hours at the speed of thought."  
  
"Don't you mean the speed of light?" Hermione injected, not understanding his term. Dumbledore simply smiled.  
  
"Oh no, Miss Granger. If we were traveling that slowly it would take several years to reach them!"  
  
The trio gulped nervously.  
  
"That far, huh?" Ron joked, but he was just as uneasy about the trip as his friends.  
  
Dumbledore only smiled behind his beard. "Yes, well-I just want to remind you three that we are dropping into their home unexpected. They still think we won't come until January, which for them feels like a thousand years from now. Let me remind you time does not exist there, yet the affects of their time and ours are very complicated. Be on your guard when we arrive."  
  
"Yes sir," Harry, Ron and Hermione replied in unison.  
  
"Very well then," the Headmaster concluded. "Remember, seven o'clock sharp. The portal opens at five minutes past and then will close exactly one minute later. We will be gone for the rest of the week before the portal opens from their side. That's all then, I think. Until the sunrise tomorrow then-" and with a slight nod of his head he left for his office.  
  
****  
  
"I actually can't wait for tomorrow," Ron yawned as the three friends headed up the stairs to bed before anyone else. They rounded a corner and traveled the last corridor to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
"Can't wait?" Harry asked, a bit surprised. He looked around Ron to Hermione and gave her a quizzical look. "Did I just hear him right?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione breathed, plopping her head down on Ron's shoulder as they walked. She was in a sort of stupor and just kept moving in that position.  
  
"How can you not wait? I certainly don't want to meet either of them. I mean sure, they've got to be very powerful and everything, and yes I want some answers to what has been happening and all; but you among all three of us must be terrified to see Crystal," Harry pointed out, announcing the password to the Fat Lady and stepping into the common room before Ron and Hermione.  
  
"There must be something nagging at her mind," Ron grumbled tapping Harry on the shoulder and shoving Hermione in his face. Harry waved a hand in front of Hermione's blanked out eyes. She shuddered a bit and came to a second later.  
  
"What?" she asked lazily.  
  
"Are you okay?" Harry asked, leading her up the steps and to her dorm room door.  
  
"Yes. No. Yes. No...I don't know..." She shook her head. Harry raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
"How about you just go to bed now, sleep for twelve hours, and then answer me in the morning?" he suggested, opening the door and pushing her in.  
  
"But-" Hermione started, but Harry shook his head and gently closed the door on her face.  
  
"She's become a lost cause."  
  
"Shut up, Ron," Harry mumbled, pushing him back down the stairs.  
  
"I'm just pointing out what's there!" he defended, laughing along with Harry. When the two boys reached the common room and fell into the armchairs in front of the fire the portrait hole opened and Ginny walked in. She spotted them both and walked over to join them.  
  
"What?" Ron asked automatically, closing his eyes to the comforting warmth of the flames. Ginny narrowed her own at him.  
  
"What do you mean 'what'?" she asked. Harry wasn't really paying much attention. He was trying to enjoy the last few hours before the next day, and before the fourteen hour trip to Enol.  
  
"Don't be thick Gin, you want to know something," Ron explained.  
  
Ginny only scowled at him and brought her feet up under her on the couch. "Alright, alright-I did want to know something. Everyone was worried when Dumbledore came to talk to you, Harry and Hermione. So was I, in fact, and I was wondering what it was all about. That's all though really."  
  
"Worried? Gin, you got to be kidding me. Why would they be worried?" Ron only shook his head, but chanced one eye open at the silence from his sister. Ginny was only staring at him in a way that said 'you're a moron'. "What?"  
  
"Oh don't start that again!" she exclaimed. "Why else was everyone worried? If the Headmaster speaks to you three, especially Harry, then it has to be something really big! We got scared, all of us thinking it had something to do with last year and You-Know-Who...it doesn't, right?" Harry could hear it in her voice that she was hoping so. Ron, however, just closed his eyes again and breathed in deeply.  
  
There was a long pause between them, in which Harry felt very nervous. Ron couldn't tell anyone about their journey for the next day, or the about Oracles at all. It would be hard to explain the spooky voices and strange dreams without revealing who was doing them. And Ginny wouldn't leave until she got some answer that sounded like the truth.  
  
He turned to them and saw that Ginny was leaning toward Ron hopefully, anticipating his answer. Ron, however, looked very relaxed, as if there wasn't some big secret he was holding.  
  
"Gin," Ron said.  
  
"Yeah?" she replied, bracing herself for the full on information.  
  
"Second drawer on the left under your Weird Sisters shirt."  
  
Ginny's eyes widened at this and she jumped to her feet in anger. "I hate you!" she yelled, and then sprinted away from them both and into her dorm room. Harry looked to Ron and without saying a word Ron opened his eyes to stare back, his face cracked in a grin.  
  
"What was that all about?" Harry asked, confused beyond belief. "Why was she mad and why are you grinning?"  
  
Ron's smirk transformed into a full smile. "Ginny's got another diary." But instead of smiling Harry looked worried.  
  
"Not one that-"  
  
"No, Harry. This one doesn't talk back. But she liked writing her thoughts down and she's kept one since summer. It drives her nuts when I know where it is. I read it once."  
  
Harry shook his head. "That's not exactly something to brag about Ron. That was invasion of privacy."  
  
"Oh come on Harry! I'm her brother, I'm supposed to do things like that. Besides, I just took a wild guess, I didn't know it was really in her drawer."  
  
"You're starting to act like Fred and George," Harry stated knowingly. Ron scowled.  
  
"You can insult me in the cruelest ways," he muttered back. Harry only nodded absentmindedly.  
  
****  
  
It was early morning. Birds were singing, the sun was slowly rising, no clouds were to be seen and Draco hated it all. It was the worst scenario for a day of confused thinking and horrible thoughts. It was thirty minutes past six and he had been awake since four. He had decided that he would skip classes today, because he had bigger things to think about.  
  
"This thing is really ugly," Draco muttered to no one, lying on the leather couch and examining his Mark. "And it burns too." He laid a cool hand on his arm, hoping to relieve some of the heat. As he sat there with the minutes dragging past, Draco's mind traveled back to the advice Hermione had given him.  
  
"I have one piece of advice to give you, 'go to Dumbledore'! As much as you hate him, Malfoy, he'll help you. No matter what. Even if you have that- thing...on your arm. Simply go to him and tell him what you told me, and I assure you he'll help."  
  
Draco grumbled. "Oh great, now Granger's nagging me in my head as well. Go to Dumbledore, like that would ever happen! I may be skeptical about some things but trusting in that bloke? Not a chance. Like I said, until the world ends and I find there is a God, I am not going to that man. Never."  
  
****  
  
"Could you be any slower Ron!" Hermione hissed, leaning around the railing of the dorm steps. Harry was beside her, leaning casually against the wall. Ron was still in their room, searching frantically around his side table drawer. "Honestly, we're going to be late! Dumbledore said-"  
  
"I know, I know! But I can't find the darn...oh wait. No, never mind, I found it. Come on you two, let's go." Ron straightened up from the table and turned to them, making sure he crossed the room quietly so as not to wake Seamus, Dean or Neville.  
  
"What were you looking for?" Harry asked as Ron snapped the door shut.  
  
"The ring."  
  
"You want to ask the Oracle what it's for," Hermione piped in. It wasn't a question.  
Harry pushed himself off the wall. "We better go. It's five minutes to seven, and we have to get all the way down to Dumbledore's office." He beckoned them to follow and the three sprinted out of the portrait hole, where the Fat Lady was leaning against her frame snoring rather loudly.  
  
****  
  
The lamp on the work table crashed to the stone floor in the Slytherin common room. Along with it went some rolls of parchment, a quill and quite a few bottles of ink, smashing to the floor and scattering black ink everywhere. Draco clutched the edge of the table violently, trying desperately to bring himself to his feet. He was surprised the noise he was making hadn't woken anyone up; but it seemed as though Voldemort was back in contact with him for his Mark was paining him once more.  
  
"My lord," Draco gasped quietly from the floor. His speech was respectful, yet his tone nothing short of mockery. Whether Voldemort choose to ignore his sarcasm or not, he gave no indication.  
  
"I have neglected you for quite some time, boy," his voice said, the chill words echoing in Draco's head.  
  
"Have not a worry, my lord. I was not devastated in the slightest." Draco received an extra surge of pain for this remark, the sensation of knives pressing into him cloaking him from head to toe. His breath rattled and his body jerked involuntarily.  
  
"I'd swallow your tongue if I were you, boy! You're new found courage is being put to the wrong use. I have heard your thoughts, and I do not appreciate my servants having their loyalty waver!"  
  
"I haven't wavered," Draco replied through clenched teeth. No pain accompanied this remark, but a freezing chill ran up his arm and through the rest of his body. "I haven't wavered!" Draco repeated, his anger rising. Voldemort was not impressed.  
  
"You're brave, kid," the Dark Lord whispered. "But your bravery is only an inch deep, I can tell. Lucky for you however, I have more important matters to deal with at the moment. My faithful Death Eaters are calling me. And don't think I'm forgetting this encounter, boy. I can see that you falter right before my eyes. You will be punished for your sass, though it won't be now. Some advice to you for the near future: Don't push you luck. Remember, I could kill you any time, Draco."  
  
He had never used his name before.  
  
"So why don't you?" Draco asked, all sense of sarcasm gone from him. There was a pause, and then a slow, small laugh.  
  
"You don't know."  
  
Not a question.  
  
"You surprise me constantly. I will contact you again, very soon. And if you dare go near Dumbledore, I'll kill that little Mudblood friend of yours."  
  
Then the contact was broken.  
  
****  
  
"So you're sure the teachers know that we're going to Enol with Dumbledore?" Hermione asked Harry for about the millionth time. Though it had become annoying, Harry decided to just humor her by answering once more.  
  
"Yes and no. I guess they know Dumbledore is taking us three somewhere. But I suppose they don't know where."  
  
"I'm getting a little nervous," Ron mumbled, taking wide steps to keep up with Harry and Hermione's fast ones. They cut around a corner and hurried down the flight of stairs waiting for them on the other side.  
  
"And I'd have to admit that I can't blame you. Meeting the Oracles of Prodigy has got to be one of the most dangerous things in the world! And knowing that You-Know-Who has got some information on them doesn't help," Hermione told them. Harry led the way down the corridor.  
  
"But think about it, if Voldemort knows about them, and you can be sure that he does, why doesn't he just get to them now? From my encounters with him it seems to me that if he knows about something he'll get all the information on it and then get to it before Dumbledore does. And also, why hasn't he done anything since last year? Don't get me wrong now. I don't want people dying in the streets and him plaguing the earth again, but why isn't he? What's he doing out there?"  
  
"Harry," Ron started, "those are just a lot of questions that I really don't want the answer to."  
  
Harry only shrugged.  
  
****  
  
"Enough," Draco said, snatching his cloak from his room and exiting as quietly as possible. He quickly descended the steps and was soon in the common room, his cloak fastened around his shoulders and a face of determination to go along with it.  
  
"Enough is enough. Malfoy name or not, stubborn pride or none, Dark Arts or no Dark Arts. I am still Draco and when I say I don't let anyone tell me what to do then I abide that rule." His face was set and he lifted his sleeve to stare hard at the Dark Mark.  
  
"I know you're not there, my lord," he spat, making sure his taunting voice could be distinguished. "But I want you to listen carefully. I may have wanted to be a Death Eater and I may have wanted to be your servant. I may have been as evil as I can be to everyone who isn't your supporter and I may have loved it before. I may hate Harry Potter with every ounce of my being and I may still hate him until the day I die; but that was then, and this is now.  
  
"I could care less if you killed me the moment you find all this out, because as I see it I've been dead since the day you placed the Dark Mark on me. I don't know how your stupid system works, but torturing your supporters and possessing them is a sure way to lose 'em as well. You're sick, and I make my own decisions."  
  
And with that he yanked open the door to the hallway...  
  
***  
  
...and there was Dumbledore, sitting at his desk and staring at the ceiling.  
  
"Are we on time?" Hermione asked, walking into the office in front of Harry and Ron. Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"Yes, yes. You three are exactly on schedule." He waved his hand to the seats before him and they each fell into one.  
  
There were, of course, many questions buzzing around in their heads, but no one said a thing. Dumbledore glanced at one of his strange contraptions floating on the table near the entrance.  
  
"Just a few more minutes to go," he announced. The Headmaster stood up and rounded the corner of the desk...  
  
****  
  
...then he began to run flat out down the corridor. He still had about three floors to go before he even got near Dumbledore's office. Draco had never really been to it, but there were numerous times when he saw Potter enter the stone gargoyle on one of the lower floors. He knew there really wasn't any hurry to get to the Headmaster, but Draco wasn't sure when Voldemort would re-contact him.  
  
It wasn't as though he was changing sides, but then again it wasn't as though he wanted to stay on the side he was on. He was stuck somewhere in the middle, and if only he could really figure out what happened that frightful summer night and why the Dark Lord saw him fit for his evil deeds, then maybe a light would shine and show him the way. But for now he had decided to heed Hermione's advice and go to the Mudblood-lover for help.  
  
He half tripped up the next couple staircases and then flashed down a corridor. He almost skidded against the ground as he tried to attempt a sharp turn past a corner, and then had to catch onto something to retrieve his balance. He stretched out his hand to grab the windowsill...  
  
****  
  
...and lifted it up to let some fresh air into the room. The Headmaster then returned to where Harry, Ron and Hermione were seated and stood in front of them.  
  
"Alright then, three minutes to go and we'll be off. Would all of you please stand?" He indicated them to huddle close together in front of his desk, and his darting eyes couldn't help but notice each one of them shivering slightly.  
  
"Fourteen hours," Ron gulped, and Dumbledore saw Harry and Hermione smile weakly.  
  
Two minutes left.  
  
****  
  
There. At the end of the corridor. That stone gargoyle was staring at him, almost taunting him to go faster. Draco took in one giant breath and used the rest of his energy to speed down the hallway, the gargoyle's glare growing ever closer. He could almost feel the smallest tinge of heat from his Mark.  
  
He pressed on.  
  
****  
  
Hermione tried steadying her breath. She glanced at her own watch. One minute left.  
  
"Professor, will we be able to see one another while were traveling? Will we feel each other?" Hermione asked, her voice remarkably calm. Dumbledore shook his head.  
  
"It'll be much too fast and mind blowing that it would be a miracle of you could decipher one figure from the rest of the things flashing past us."  
  
Hermione could feel her muscles tense. Less than a minute left. She felt herself sway a little. She took a step forward...  
  
****  
  
... and onto the spiral staircase. Draco couldn't stand there forever and wait for the slow moving thing to reach the top, so he took the steps three at a time, his breath coming in harsh beats...  
  
****  
  
..."Ten seconds," Dumbledore said. He stood behind Harry, Ron and Hermione, all of whom were facing away from the desk and now were turned to the center of Dumbledore's circular room. Nine...eight...  
  
Draco pulled himself up the last step...  
  
...seven...  
  
...and fell against the large doorway to Dumbledore's office...  
  
...six...  
  
Ron clenched and unclenched his hands in anticipation...  
  
...five...  
  
Draco turned the door knob to the office and stepped in...  
  
...four...  
  
"Malfoy!" Harry yelled as the blonde-haired boy half fell into the office. "What are you doing-you've got to get out of here now!"...  
  
...three...  
  
"What are you doing here?" Draco shot back, spotting Harry, then Ron and then Hermione.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore exclaimed, his voice urgent. "You must leave now! I haven't the time to explain but-"  
  
"But Professor, I had to tell you something! It's about the Dark Lord!" Draco took a step forward.  
  
"What?"  
  
...two...  
  
"I didn't want to come before but Hermione told me to-"  
  
"Hermione?" Ron questioned.  
  
"Forget it Ron! Malfoy, this isn't the-"  
  
"Granger, I need to say this!"  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, I must agree with them..."  
  
"Malfoy move!" Harry yelled. He dived across the room at Draco, hoping to push him out the door and out of the portal's way...but he was too late...  
  
...one...  
  
A mass of swirling color suddenly exploded in the middle of the room directly in front of Harry, a tremendous bang accompanying it. He dived right into it, but hardly anyone could notice for everyone in the room was suddenly lurched forward into the swirling mass of color and sound, and everything around them dissolved into the portal. They were on their way.  
  
****  
  
A/N: Dun dun dun!!! Muahahaha.their going to see the Oracles, the wonderful Oracles of Prodigy! Well, yeah, so that's it for this chapter to whoever in great heaven is reading this thing. Looks like no one is.oh well. I guess I'm doing this for my own enjoyment! Anyway coming up: Did Draco get pulled into the portal as well? And what ever happened with those interventions in the beginning of the story? And the big question.what happened to Draco when he got the Dark Mark??? The meeting of the Oracles, the world of Enol, Voldemort's sinister plan, and what about the solution to the Love Spell? It's all coming up! (one, two, three, four! It's coming up! Oh yeah, coming up! okay, so I guess I'm the only Beatles fan in the world because I know that no one has ever heard that song so yeah, that joke did not work...you wouldn't understand, it's a dance thing...muahahahahahaha!!!!) 


	7. The Oracles of Prodigy

Chapter Seven ~ The Oracles of Prodigy  
  
Fourteen hours later...  
  
Harry fell forcefully backward onto a soft mattress, but he really didn't pay attention to this. He lay spread-eagle on the bed, his eyes wide in horror and his breath coming in was ragged and shallow and extremely fast. He wasn't sure if he'd ever move again.  
  
He was scared, weary and unbelievably cold despite the fact that he had dressed in warm, muggle clothes with his cloak on when he departed. He tried lifting his hands but he felt like he had never moved his body before. The sensation of moving felt new to him and he was completely confident that he would ever get up again.  
  
"I wonder-...if...Ron-Hermione..." a deep breath, "...Dumbledore-got...here-" Speaking, itself, was a struggle for him and stringing words together had to be the most difficult task. He gave up trying to do anything and let himself fall into a deep slumber.  
  
****  
  
Hermione didn't want to scream because if she opened her mouth she wasn't sure if she'd ever stop. Suddenly she felt herself land hard onto a soft something, and when she opened her eyes she saw that she was lying in a bed. It was a four poster with white curtains and snow white bed cloths.  
  
She lay still for a few moments, her heart pounding and her breath too fast for her to think. She tried to turn her head about, but at the inkling of movement her body protested. Her muscles threatened to seize up again and she did not want that at all.  
  
So she lay there, breathing hard and shivering to her bones. She wished she could see Harry, Ron or Dumbledore, but she really wasn't sure where she was. The curtains blocked everything from view and it would take a miracle or a month for Hermione to reach out and tug them away.  
  
"Sle-...sleep..." she breathed. She wanted to fall back into the comfort of the bed and drift away, but it seemed she was even much too tired to do even that. So she gave up to simply lying there, calming her breath and staring at the canopy above her.  
  
****  
  
Draco wanted to thrash out, scream, yell, whip out his wand and curse everything in sight, but he couldn't. Just moments ago he felt himself fall onto something soft, but he couldn't care less about what it was. He was much too angry, tired and frightened.  
  
One minute he had been standing in the doorway of Dumbledore's office, Potter, Weasley and Granger standing next to the Headmaster. They had told him to leave but naturally he refused. Then the next second Potter was launching himself at him but somehow Draco never felt the collision.  
  
He had been brutally pulled into a mass of swirling color in the middle of the office and had just spent the last fourteen hours screaming himself to death and traveling faster than he ever thought possible.  
  
Now he was lying in a bed, he guessed, his eyes huge discs in his even paler face and his body shivering uncontrollably. He was breathing as if he had just run from France to China and his muscles were numb from being seized up for too long.  
  
He tried to speak, tried to say something to insult the vicious journey he had just been through, but his voice seemed just as tired as he himself. But Draco Malfoy wasn't going to just lie there for an eternity, not a chance. Sure he wanted to just sleep his life away and not have a care in the world, but what would Potter be doing?  
  
Famous Harry Potter wouldn't just sit back and try to do nothing. He would heave himself up and find out where he was. So Draco spent what felt like the rest of the year struggling to lift his hand so he could pull back the white curtains.  
  
****  
  
Ron was screaming at the top of his lungs, his head threatening to burst open at every key he hit. His arms and legs were flailing every which way and his heart was pounding five thousand beats a second. He was colder than ice and his muscles were crying out in objection to his rapid movements, but Ron took no heed to any of this.  
  
He had long since stopped falling and was now lying on a white lined bed, but his mind was still stuck in the overwhelming experience of the portal. His eyes were sealed shut and he didn't even hear the curtains around him being yanked open or the hands on his shoulders that were rapidly shaking him to shut up.  
  
"Ron!" someone's voice cried, almost failing to be heard above the roar he, himself, was creating.  
  
"STOP! STOP! MAKE IT STOP!" He was calming down a little bit.  
  
"RON! Open your eyes!!!"  
  
Ron's eyes snapped open and he took the time to stop screaming abruptly and rest his voice. Standing over him was Harry, face very pale and his eyes very wide.  
  
"Ha-Har-...Ha-" Ron stuttered, his breathing still too shallow for speech. Harry nodded his head to the unasked question and brought Ron up to a sitting position. Ron swayed a little at his sudden movement but steadied himself nonetheless. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and grasped the sides of the bed cloth.  
  
"Just-just take some...deep-...deep..." Harry attempted to say, but it seemed he still hadn't adjusted from the trip. For awhile there was silence between them, interrupted by the ragged breathing of the two boys. Harry was leaning against the frame of the bed and Ron was twisting the white linen in his fingers, for his lungs stung from the cold air surrounding them.  
  
****  
  
Harry could still feel the aftermath of the trip flowing through his body. Sure he had fallen asleep and had rested for a fair time, but he was still tired and the struggle to get out of bed and shut Ron up had drained him once more. But now that his best friend had calmed down, Harry took this time to examine the room which they were in.  
  
It was circular, giving him the sense that this was a tower. It was quite large, probably ten times larger than Gryffindor Tower back home. The walls, floor and ceiling was all made from stone like at Hogwarts, but this place was nothing like Hogwarts. There were flambeaux lining all around the wall and one tremendous chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. None of the candles in any of these were lit, though, because sun was pouring in from the five high windows evenly spread out through the room.  
  
There were about four four-poster beds circling the room; each one with the same white hangings as the next. The one Harry had been in was one of the center ones, and Ron's was next to his. The two end beds had their curtains drawn. Each was spaced out a fair amount, for Harry had walked quite a distance to Ron's bed and in the spot that could have held a fifth bed was an intricately carved door.  
  
"Where are we?" Ron finally said, getting to his feet gingerly.  
  
"Enol?" Harry suggested, walking to one of the windows between Ron's bed and his. He peered outside it and saw a luscious forest stretching from almost the tower's edge till as far as the eyes could see. The sun was glowing brilliantly in the sky and the green radiance from the plant life all around made the place almost glow like an emerald. "But how could it be?" Harry protested quietly.  
  
"What? What do you mean?" Ron asked, walking into the middle of the room and staring up at the extravagant chandelier.  
  
"This place. How could it be Enol? Dumbledore said it was a land of banishment. If this is where you go to get banished I wouldn't mind living here." His statement wasn't meant for laughter. Harry turned away from the window and found Ron staring confused at him. "What?"  
  
Ron pointed to him. "You. What-what are you wearing?"  
  
Confused as well, Harry looked down at himself. He expected to see his muggle clothing he had donned that morning, but no--it wasn't there. He was white. His cloak and the rest of his attire were gone and all he was wearing was a soft, loose white tunic and trousers. He looked up to Ron and suddenly noticed that his clothing duplicated his own.  
  
"Wow, I never even realized that until now," Harry told him. He felt the fabric in his hand and noted that it was incredibly soft and perfectly comfortable. He lifted the hem of his trouser leg and found snow white boots to match.  
  
"Just like in my dream," Ron commented. His voice was obviously full of worry, but he did not continue the subject.  
  
Suddenly there was a low grumble from the right end bed and Harry and Ron both whipped around to it and slowly backed away. Another grumble, a cough, and then the curtain was slowly pulled back, revealing Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Malfoy?!" Harry and Ron both exclaimed together. Draco was sitting at the end of his bed and was slowly rubbing his head.  
  
"That was worse than hel-"  
  
"What are you doing here?!" Ron demanded, though his strained voice didn't really strike either Harry or Draco as forceful. It seemed that Draco hadn't really comprehended who was talking to him or where he was until that very moment, because after Ron questioned him Draco's head snapped up and he stared at them both with astonishment.  
  
"Weasley? Potter?!" he bellowed, standing up and looking at them. "What are you...where am I...what are you wearing?" he said, pointing at them and staring around the room.  
  
"Harry, I thought you pushed him out of the room," Ron cried, turning on Harry. Harry was taken aback by his remark.  
  
"I attempted to, but if you didn't notice, the portal kind of got in my way," he replied, defending himself. Draco was silently being enraged by the fact that he didn't know where he was.  
  
"Well, you could have shifted over and knocked him down the stairs instead of diving head first into the portal," Ron suggested. Harry threw his hands up.  
  
"And I would do that when, while I was flying through the air?"  
  
Draco now looked down at himself, for his clothes were more or less the exact same as Harry and Ron's. "What the bloody-what am I wearing?!" he demanded.  
  
"Why don't you just stuff it, Malfoy," Ron offered. Draco rounded on the two boys.  
  
"Tell me where I am, Potter. Tell me why you were in Dumbledore's office, why there was this thing in the middle of the room, why I was traveling at a billion miles per second for fourteen hours, why I'm here, where I am and why in hell's name am I dressed like this!"  
  
"I don't have to tell you anything Malfoy, but here's a question for you. What were you doing in Dumbledore's office?"  
  
"None of your business," Draco spat.  
  
Ron shrugged. "We don't get an answer, you don't get an answer. Fair both ways."  
  
"Hey, I asked you idiots first."  
  
"If we're the idiots why is it you haven't a clue where you are?" Ron hissed.  
  
Harry shook his head. "Could you two just shut up for a minute? We still need to get Hermione." Draco tossed his hands in the air.  
  
"I don't believe this! Stuck with the 'Golden Trio' again. When will the torture ever stop," he grumbled.  
  
"How about all three of you shut up?!" a voice demanded; and the three boys spun around to the last bed with the hangings still drawn.  
  
"Hermione?" Harry asked. "Hermione, is that you?"  
  
Hermione sighed heavily and lowered her tone back to politeness. "Yes Harry, it's me."  
  
A hand then protruded from behind the white curtain and was slowly slid to the side; and there was Hermione, looking as weather beaten and tired as any of them. She too wasn't wearing the clothes she had started out in, but instead looked as though she just stepped out from the eleventh century.  
  
Her white dress was cut low and square at the neck and her bell sleeves reached all the way to the floor. The bodice hugged her but was still lose and a shining white cord was tied around her waist. The skirt of the dress was long and flowing and it branched out all around her feet.  
  
"Nice outfit," Harry said, nodding a head at her. Hermione looked down at herself and just sighed.  
  
"I know, I know. It scared me too." She walked over to them slowly. "So," she began, eyeing Malfoy. "You got pulled into the portal as well?" Malfoy stared blankly at her.  
  
"A portal?" he asked in his usual drawl. "So that thing was a portal? A portal to what? Where are we?"  
  
Harry answered him, but his head was looking and leaning toward the door at the other side of the room. "A whole 'other world." His eyes narrowed behind his round glasses and he began slowly walking toward the door.  
  
"What's the matter with you, Potter?" Draco asked, trying not to sound hostile because he was too tired.  
  
"Wait," Harry said, holding up a hand to silence him. "I think I hear someone." He walked quietly all the way up to the door and pressed his ear against the smooth, cool wood. Draco, Hermione, and Ron stayed where they were. Then the voice of a person sounded from the hall outside.  
  
"All this screaming and yelling. Honestly, you'd think that people were here." Then Harry pulled back quickly for the door to their room was swung open and a boy stood in the doorway.  
  
He was very small and looked to be around ten years of age. He had what looked like used be brown hair, but the sun had worn it down to a soft golden brown. His eyes were pale blue and he wore the same white clothing as Harry, Ron and Draco.  
  
Everyone in the room froze, from Draco on the bed to the boy in the doorway. The boy had one hand on the door handle while the other was poised in the air, an apple clutched in his hand and halfway to his mouth. Harry just stared at him and he stared back. The boy's face didn't change in the slightest, but he just continued to stare. His eyes darted around, taking in Hermione, Ron and Malfoy. Minutes passed.  
  
Then, very slowly, he backed out again, bringing the door to a close after him. It shut with a soft click and still no one moved. Then the boy's frightened voice echoed to them from outside in the hall.  
  
"CRYSTAL!!! Crystal, there are people here!!! Real people!!!"  
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione and even Draco were speechless.  
  
****  
  
Leo was running down the corridors and stairways, banging off the walls and yelling at the top of his lungs. It was the first time in centuries that he had ever acted like the child that he was.  
  
"Crystal!" he screamed, trying hard to suppress a strange smile that kept creeping onto his face at the pure joy of running around and yelling. "Real people! There are real people! Crystal! Crys-" Leo stopped mid-sentence, and for good reason.  
  
He had just run headlong into a tall something standing in the hallway he was in. The impact bounced Leo backward, but the tall something did not move one bit. Shaking his head to grab back his focus, Leo looked up into the face of Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"Dumbledore, sir!" Leo exclaimed, his fear dissolving into surprise and happiness. "Professor, when did you get here? We had no idea you were--...we thought you'd come in January. Not that I'm not glad---but...Wow, you're here!" He launched himself at Dumbledore's middle and hugged him tight. Dumbledore gasped a bit, but began to laugh and hugged him back in turn.  
  
Dumbledore didn't mind this kind behavior, for he understood their isolation. He was the only person who ever came to visit them, so naturally they looked to him as a grandfather figure.  
  
"I am so very sorry that we came on such short notice, but we had no other choice. Things haven't been improving in our world," Dumbledore explained, but Leo pulled himself away with a puzzled look on his face.  
  
"We? Who's we?" Leo asked.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Dumbledore apologized. "I forgot to mention this, but I brought Harry Potter with me. Him and the other two I mentioned to you: Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. It seems, though, that I have misplaced them somewhere." He smiled wearily down at Leo whose face averted to true realization.  
  
"Oh...oh!!! Okay, well...professor, I think I already found them." And with that Leo beckoned the headmaster to follow him and led him back to the room he had moments ago been running from. With small ease and gentleness, Leo pushed the door open to the room. He peeked his head in once more and saw the four students standing in exactly the same places he had left them. "Well, here there are!" Leo exclaimed, and pushed the door all the way open.  
  
"Dumbledore!" the raven-haired boy cried. He had green eyes and a lightening-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. This was surely Harry Potter himself, Leo thought, and he couldn't help but smile.  
  
"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. "And to you Miss Granger, Mr., Weasley and...oh, I dare say! Mr. Malfoy, do I guess right when I say that you were accidentally pulled into the portal as well?"  
  
"That's what everyone keeps telling me," the fair-haired boy replied. He was sitting on one of the beds with his elbows resting on his knees. He looked even more fatigued than anyone else in the room, and Leo noted that there was something odd about him.  
  
Something in his past, for he could feel it radiating off him. He could have easily just used his magic to find out what that something was right then and there, but Leo was a polite boy and the invasion of someone's past was not polite at all.  
  
"Professor," the girl suddenly said, stepping forward. Leo remembered her as Hermione; the one Crystal had put the spell upon. "Sir, are we in Enol? Did we make it? Are the Oracles here?"  
  
Leo stiffened a bit. Dumbledore only smiled down at him and then addressed the others.  
  
"Yes, Hermione. I am glad to say we made it here safe and sound. No injuries that I can see on any of you and I perceive that the journey went just as well."  
  
"Well?! What do you mean 'well'? It didn't go well!" Ron and Draco burst out at the same time. They glared at each other afterward, but Dumbledore's eyes twinkled joyously.  
  
"Oh, yes, well. I believe it is my fault that the journey was a bit--intense--for you. I should have emphasized on it a bit more. But it is in the past now and now you are forewarned. But to pressing matters..."  
  
Dumbledore turned around and closed the door to the room so as to add privacy. Leo, wondering why he was nervous to move in front of strangers in his own home, ran happily to one of the beds in the room and plopped down onto it. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco said nothing. The trio smiled kindly at him, but the blonde one, Draco Malfoy, never even glanced up. Leo wasn't offended for his lack of politeness or anything, but instead felt sorry for him. He looked awful.  
  
Sighing hard, his happy face lost to him now, Leo slid off the bed and walked all the way to Draco. The boy did not look up until he was only a few feet away; and when he did he just stared at him with the slight air of surprise. The other three were simply watching, puzzled, and Dumbledore just stood by the door, watching and not saying a word.  
  
****  
  
The kid stopped inches away from Draco's face and leaned in to inspect him closer. Draco, on his part, leaned away. It wasn't common for him to have people stare at him or invade his atmosphere. Then the boy waved a hand over Draco's eyes and he couldn't help but slide a little back on the bed. He also wasn't certain where he was either and this tiny excuse for a boy made him uneasy.  
  
Then the boy turned to Dumbledore and said something to him, but of what he said, Draco had no idea. The words that came from him, if they were words at all, were nothing that sounded remotely like English...let alone French, German and even that weird Bulgarian that Viktor Krum spoke.  
  
"S'ereth ssen kard," he began, "S'ereth ssen kard gnid ould mih. Ton nevei nace es ohweh si. S'taht ton thgir."  
  
Silence. Harry looked at the boy in a similar way as Draco, with a thoroughly confused glare, and Ron and Hermione first stared at each other in puzzlement and then to the Headmaster. Draco's eyes darted to Dumbledore in turn, wondering what he thought about this gibberish, but he only nodded and said something in return.  
  
"Yes, I have seen it too. His life is very well hidden and for the years I have had him as a student I have worked hard to reveal it." Draco heard this, but didn't understand what he was talking about.  
  
"Alright then, if that's the way you feel," he mumbled, scooting to the side and stomping up to Dumbledore. "Professor, I haven't a clue where I am! I don't know what you and Potter had planned; why they were in your office and what you're doing here; and to be totally honest, I couldn't care less, so please don't be obligated to tell me. But I want to know what I'm doing here, how I got here, and where here is. Please Professor, tell me something." And to his amazement, he fixed Dumbledore with his cold grey eyes; a stare with an intense power all its own.  
  
Dumbledore neither flinched nor retorted. He stared hard at Draco, his own blue eyes twinkling powerfully as his folded hands slowly rested themselves on Draco's shoulders. Draco twitched a little but otherwise did nothing. Then he spoke to him, his voice cut down to a whisper so only he could hear.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, a few months ago, if we came here like this, you would have never come to me at all. I know you, and I find that I am safe to say that you and your family never truly accepted me." Draco did not blush at all, but he looked to the ground in response. Dumbledore continued. "But that was before. Lately I have sensed a severe change in you. One that I must say I like-"  
  
"I haven't changed," Draco interrupted, but Dumbledore went on as though he hadn't heard him.  
  
"-but as much as I like this change it is a drastic change nonetheless. Something's wrong with you Draco, and I wish to find out what it is." Malfoy looked up at him, his face a little blundered. The Headmaster was terribly, terribly, off subject now.  
  
"Sir, I also would like to know some answer all my own," he replied, his voice like stone. Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"Very well. Let us make a deal. I tell you everything you need to know, and in return I hear your side of the story about your change. And, might I add, it is one that involves my strongest concern, is it not?" The wise man raised his eyebrows at him, and Draco nodded slowly back. "All is settled then. Leo," he called, and the boy ran up to him and stood waiting for instructions. "Mr. Malfoy and I will be on the first floor, catching one another up on a few things. I want you to stay with these three and help them become familiar with this place. We will, hopefully, not be long."  
  
Draco gulped. It wasn't the prospect of telling Albus Dumbledore about his Mark and the Dark Lord's hidden planning that made him nervous. No, it was the result of someone else. He clutched his left arm and tried not to think of what Voldemort would do to him if he ever found all this out; and he prayed that it would be a long, long time.  
  
But as the thoughts of severe punishment swam through his mind, Draco felt no need to simply not tell Dumbledore everything. He didn't know when he had decided it, but somewhere along the lines of running to the office and the fourteen hour journey, did he promise himself that he would reveal everything to the Headmaster.  
  
Oh god, he thought angrily at himself. I'm turning good.  
  
"Professor," Harry started, taking a step toward him. "I don't mean to sound eager but, are we going to meet the Oracles?" He sounded hopeful, yet undoubtedly afraid.  
  
"Yes Harry, you will. In fact, you, Ron and Hermione are going to get acquainted with one of them while I am gone." Harry smiled weakly in response as Dumbledore led Draco out the door. Before he left, however, he poked one head in and said, "Harry. Ron. Hermione, meet Leo Tiara. The second Oracle of Prodigy and Dweller of the Past."  
  
The last thing Draco saw before the door closed over his vision was Potter, Granger and Weasley's faces, mouths hanging open and eyes staring at the small, and very cheerful, little boy.  
  
****  
  
"So you have your own language?" Hermione asked Leo, her fascination obvious. The boy nodded happily. "That's incredible!" she exclaimed. Harry had to agree.  
  
It had only been a few hours, but it was remarkable at how comfortable they had become with one another. Then again, the boy's natural friendly nature did help a lot.  
  
They were all sitting in the room where Dumbledore had left them, Harry and Hermione sitting on one bed and Ron and Leo on the one across. They hadn't ventured out of the room to familiarize themselves with the place, but instead got to know each other better; and Harry really liked Leo; and it looked as though Ron and Hermione agreed with him.  
  
"So, you and your sister just made up a language or something? Just out of the blue like that?" Ron asked, very interested. Leo shook his head this time.  
  
"No, we didn't make one up Ron, sir," he replied. Ron flinched a little.  
  
"Er-Leo? You know you don't have to call me sir. I'm not very fond of it anyway," he said. Leo looked embarrassed.  
  
"Sorry again. I didn't mean to. It's just the only person I've ever spoken to that isn't my sister is Dumbledore, and I always call him sir." He beamed at them, but Harry knew that his smile was just as weak as Ron's or Hermione's.  
  
Over the two or three hours that Malfoy and the Headmaster had been gone, Leo had told them about his life as a banished Oracle. Through the entire thing he had stayed as cheerful as he had began, his hands throwing themselves this way and that for exaggeration. But everything he told them was not something one could be happy about. Actually, nothing he told them could one be happy about.  
  
Leo explained that there was a higher being, more powerful than anyone could imagine, and that this being stayed up there, somewhere. The Higher Being is the one that granted the Oracles their power. Since the beginning of time the Higher Being was in charge of everything, his creations, his worlds and his children.  
  
But overtime more things had to be put under his watching eye and it became harder and harder to keep track. He needed some way to get the responsibilities off his hands so he wouldn't ruin anything. He attempted to leave the fates of his children in their own hands, allowing them to make choices and the like on their own, letting them choose their own path.  
  
But his children greatly abused this privilege and they ended up on paths that would ultimately lead them to destruction. So, the Higher Being created two mortals that would instead make the decisions for them; Leo and his sister Crystal.  
  
They would be granted powers beyond any, powers that were unlimited. Of course, their magic was bound to certain spells in the beginning, but with the coming of age they would be able to expand them. He gave the eldest mortal, Crystal, the power of foresight. She ultimately held fate in her hands and she chose and foresaw the ways that every being could make or take. She was fate on its own.  
  
But to Leo he granted the burden of guarding Life's past, holding its secrets and knowledge. Only these two beings would have wisdom of either.  
  
"But what about people like Professor Trelawney?" Harry had asked. "She knows divination. She's a medium. And what about other people like her all over the world? They can see the future as well but they don't go crazy."  
  
"That," Leo answered, grinning, "is because they can't see the future."  
  
"Huh?" Ron had grunted, confused.  
  
"People like your professor can't really see the future, at least, not on their own. Part of Crystal's job with the future was to help others, and if one's coming was dangerous, she was allowed to help them by sending it to them as a prediction. People like that Trelawney are only the messengers. They deliver the mail, they don't write it themselves." And he continued.  
  
Since he could remember, Leo had been in the tower with his sister. He had never known another life form other than her for seven long years, but it wasn't exactly an advantage to him. He explained to them that when he was only a baby his sister took care of him. She was only five years older than him. But as he grew and learned how to fend for himself, (at a very, very young age), she had slowly lost interest in his well-being.  
  
With everyday they grew, so did their powers, but Crystal had to pay a toll for hers. With every turn of her sight, her power to see into the future would tear at her mind, slowly causing her to go insane. Her other sources of magic, the Unforgivable Curses, didn't help either. So his sister's well- being was placed on Leo as well as his own.  
  
At the age of four he had to feed her, clothe her, watch her and make sure she did not terrorize helpless beings in other worlds. He hadn't always been around, so she was able to intervene in the lives of poor victims. It wasn't until he was seven years old did another human come to him.  
  
Dumbledore had known about them all his life; had been the only human the Higher Being had seen fit to contain the secret. Dumbledore's heart and soul was unnaturally clean and good, making him the ideal person to be allowed the knowledge of him and his sister.  
  
"I think Dumbledore rather liked the idea of having a secret only he in the entire world knew. He was very good at keeping it, even though I know he slipped up a little every now and then," Leo had commented.  
  
But then, only three years ago, Dumbledore had found his way to the Oracles. He had visited them every now and then since that moment, asking their small advice on things, since his cause against Voldemort was utterly important to the world.  
  
"Dumbledore would come and ask me questions on his life, his past; and I would give it to him, for the Higher Being permitted it. Don't you ever wonder why he has always had the upper hand on the Dark Lord? Why the Dark Lord never came near him and Hogwarts?" Leo's smirk was glowing with mischief.  
  
All through it Harry had wondered how this good, joyous little boy could stay so calm and happy about something so tragic as his life. It made Harry admire him even more than he did his powers.  
  
"And all our time here we were given things that would make us comfortable. It was the Higher Being's way of trying to make up for our desolate lives. He even gave us a language, a language of never-ending age and true power. It's really cool. But other than that, that's about it. That's my life story so far. If you have any question, feel free to ask."  
  
Hermione and Ron seemed too stunned to speak, but this was a chance to know things that Harry didn't want to miss out on.  
  
"So, Leo, what are you and your sister then? Are you good? Are you evil?" He tipped his falling glasses up his noise and waited. Leo looked thoughtful.  
  
"I don't think we're either. I would think I would want to be good, but we help bad guys too and I've seen a lot of bad things happen in the past that we make; equal to how much good we do. I think we work for both sides." Harry stared as Ron spoke up.  
  
"Leo, how are you always so cheerful about everything?" he asked, trying to make his surprised voice quiet, and failing. "You live a life that no one could want. Does anything ever disappoint you? You have to take care of your sister, yourself, and you only see one other human once every year!"  
  
"It's better than no one else," the boy pointed out. Ron brushed it away.  
  
"But how do you do it and be so happy? It's...strange, I guess." Harry looked at Ron meaningfully, for he felt the same way he did. But Leo just furrowed his brow innocently and answered him with questions of his own.  
  
"I guess it isn't the life a kid would want, but it's the one I have. Plus, I have my sister with me, she's the only one who really matters to me. What about your sister? Don't you love her? If you had to give up everything in the world you ever knew to just keep her safe, would you do it?"  
  
Ron looked startled. Such a deep statement coming from such a young boy was mind-boggling.  
  
"Yeah," he said, knocking him in the shoulder. "If it came to that, I guess I would. Mind you three, Ginny would probably say I was being an idiot if I did." All four of them laughed, but all of them, even Ron, knew this wasn't true in the slightest.  
  
"Right Ron," Hermione said, smiling. "But back to the subject. So Leo, your language, what is it? What's it called?"  
  
"Ytineres," Leo said, still trying not to laugh. "The Tongue of Ytineres, actually. That's the full name of it at least. We talk in it sometimes, but we do our big spells with it mostly. Dumbledore can't speak fluently yet, but he understands it basically. He responded to me when I told him about the fair-haired boy. Malfoy, I think."  
  
Harry spoke then. "What did you say to him, Leo? When you waved your hand over his eyes."  
  
Leo pulled on a straight face then. "What I said? Oh, I said 'There's darkness. There's darkness clouding him. Not even I can see who he is. That's not right'. And it's true. He looked to be at one point falling head first into the Dark Arts, but now it looks like he's stuck in between."  
  
"Malfoy? Stuck? Between good and evil?" Ron blurted. "Doesn't sound like him to me."  
  
"I think that's the point, Ron," Hermione said. "And it sounds pretty accurate. I mean look at him. Look at how he hasn't been tormenting us all year. He's haunted."  
  
"I think I've noticed it too," Harry injected. Leo shrugged.  
  
"That's what I see anyway. But he's a good guy, really," Leo explained. Ron looked indignant.  
  
"Malfoy? A good guy? Well, I'm learning a whole lot about him that isn't true! Leo, he's bad news. He's an arch enemy to us all, even my family."  
  
"You haven't seen why though," Leo replied calmly. "His past is jumbled. He wasn't exactly broken by his father or anything, it's just he lived a strict life. And with the Dark Arts all around him it wasn't hard for a boy to be fascinated by it all. Plus he's stubborn. He, specifically out of the Malfoy clan, does not like to be told to do anything...by anyone. And the Dark Arts is ruled over by a very bossy Dark Lord. Now he's got that black thing on his arm. Trust me, it's not a dream come true for him."  
  
The trio was silent for a moment.  
  
"I looked him in the eye maybe a thousand times, and the Love spell never worked again on him. Could it be the Mark causing it to repel even Oracle magic?" Hermione said, which made Leo snap to attention.  
  
"The Love Spell?" he exclaimed. Harry looked back at him. "Really? Oh, I'm sorry about that, really I am. Crystal just got carried away a little bit. But I fixed it! I made it so-"  
  
"I know already about the True Love thing," Hermione interrupted, casting a glance at Ron and Harry, who both looked up to the ceiling.  
  
"You do? Well, then, all you have to do is find your True Love! Mind you it might take some time-"  
  
"I...er...already found him."  
  
"You did!" Leo sounded positively jubilant. "Well, did you exclaim your love? The spell should be broken by now, right? See, I knew my spell would work right. So did you? Who is it?" Leo gasped. "Is it one of them?!" he pointed to Ron and Harry. Hermione bit her lip.  
  
"Yes," she said.  
  
"Well, which one?" Leo persisted. She hesitated, looking from Harry to Ron and Ron to Harry.  
  
"Well," she said, going for a weak smile. "It's both."  
  
Leo giggled. "No really, which one?"  
  
"It's both Leo."  
  
"Hermione, stop joking around. You can't have two, that's just not how it goes."  
  
"I don't know what to say, Leo," Hermione went on. "But it's true. You're sister told me so. So as you can see the spell didn't work when we said the-...you know...We just haven't a clue why."  
  
Leo shook his head, smiling unbelievingly. "But you can't have two," he repeated.  
  
"It's true," Harry said. Ron nodded reverently. Leo's smiled faded a bit, but did not entirely.  
  
"But that's not right. You can only have one...right? Right?" Leo sounded frantic, but the three could only look at him guiltily. "Only one..." he repeated, puzzled. But before he could protest some more, something glowed a penetrating bright blue from a pocket in his pant leg.  
  
"What's that?" Hermione asked, getting up with Harry to walk over to Leo and Ron. Leo looked down at his pocket. He suddenly looked very terrified and plunged his hand into his pant leg. When he withdrew it his fingers were wrapped around a tiny glass globe that was glowing with brilliant blue light.  
  
"What is that?" Ron said, repeating the question, but Leo just sprang to his feet.  
  
"We have to go," he said, and bolted to the door. He used all his weight to yank the door open and then turned around to the trio who still stood near the bed. "Come on! We've still got to find her!" And he ran out the door, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hot on his heels.  
  
****  
  
"I feel stupid," Draco growled, falling hard into one of the cushioned chairs around the mahogany dining table. Dumbledore walked to the seat across the table from him and sat in it as well. Draco had no idea why they had to come to this particular room; they had gone down staircase after staircase and around corner after corner until Dumbledore finally saw a door he liked. Draco was already breathing a little fast by the time they entered the room.  
  
"And why so Mr. Malfoy?" the professor asked. Draco glared at him and plucked at his shirt.  
  
"I'm wearing white, professor. I don't like white. I am white."  
  
He crossed his arms stubbornly and stared around the room. This dining area wasn't nearly as extravagant as the one at Malfoy Manor, but it did give a sense of nobility. The room was quite long, with the wooden table stretching most of the length of it. Two glossed china cabinets with glass doors stood on either side of the walls, their dark, ebony color shiny in the light of six small torches lining the room.  
  
Another smaller yet still magnificent chandelier hung over the middle of the table, its feeble light assisted by two grand candelabras on either end. The double-door to his right was the one he had entered in, and the other door on the far end contained no handle but looked as though it could be swung open and closed. It most likely led to a kitchen. And set beside each doorway, half embedded into the stone wall, was a small, clear glass globe.  
  
"Personally I liked seeing all four of you in white clothing rather than your typical black. It's refreshing," the Headmaster stated in a dignified tone.  
  
"Well then, how is it you're not in white and we are?" Draco asked, pointing to his robes, which were the same rich blue as when he was standing in his office. Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"I'll explain the change of clothing to you later, when Harry, Ron and Hermione join us. And must I say, man to man of course, that the white of your tunic makes your grey eyes almost silver."  
  
"Their not grey," Draco said absently, shaking his head and staring at the candles in front of him.  
  
Dumbledore leaned back and folded his hands onto his lap, looking slightly puzzled. "Are you certain Mr. Malfoy? They look positively silver to me. Were they not that way when you were in first year?"  
  
"No," he replied. "They were much more blue than grey. Anyway, that doesn't have to do with me being here, where ever I am."  
  
"Oh no Draco, of course it has nothing with you being here, but it does have something about your change. Am I right?"  
  
"Of course you are," Draco mumbled, not looking at the Professor. "When are you not right?" Dumbledore closed his eyes at this and sighed heavily.  
  
"Many, many times before," he said. Draco was quiet. "But that is beside the subject. All right then Draco, we'll do it like this. You ask me one question and I answer it. Then I ask you one question and you answer it. We'll keep doing that until we both have the information we need. Fair?" He raised his eyebrows at him. Draco held his gaze for a minute.  
  
"Alright then, fair."  
  
"Fantastic," Dumbledore replied. He sat up straighter. "Okay then, ask your question, Draco." Draco did not hesitate.  
  
"Where am I?" he demanded.  
  
"You are thousands of worlds away in the banished realm of Enol," Dumbledore answered. "Now my turn."  
  
"Wait a minute...what? That can't count as an answer, I haven't a clue what you're talking about," Draco started, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him.  
  
"No Mr. Malfoy, I believe it is my turn," he chimed, his eyes glinting. Draco sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, falling back onto the backrest. This was going to take a long time.  
  
****  
  
Crystal leaned against the stone wall of the dungeon. She was staring at the door across from herself, her expression bored. It had been ages since she sent Leo to check out what that noise had been upstairs. She could have sworn it was people screaming, but that couldn't be right at all.  
  
"This is ridiculous, what could be keeping him?" she groaned. She pushed herself off the wall and began to head for the door when she was brutally stopped mid-step. Looking back, Crystal suddenly saw why.  
  
The chains around her wrists and ankles were still in place, and she had forgotten to remove them in her worrying state. Sighing, she bent down to unlatch them.  
  
Before the noises had occurred, Crystal was going to attempt her powers again, but trying to fight the side affects this time. Leo had been with her to help and he had graciously returned to his white clothing. As a precaution to her long term absence of magic, Crystal had chained herself to the wall in case she accidentally lost control.  
  
After she unhooked herself, she walked across the dungeon space towards the door. Looking around she noticed that, for the first time, this place didn't look at all that inviting. Then again, it was a dungeon. But she had always been comfortable being in here, all alone, even in the dead of night.  
  
When she had crossed the area of the room and pulled open the plain wooden door, brilliant sunlight spilled onto her face and body, making obvious the horrible stains of brown and black from the enclosed and filthy room behind her.  
  
Shaking her head at this, Crystal went on, climbing the stairs to the upper floors to search for Leo. She checked hallway after hallway and room after room. He wasn't in any of the recreation rooms on the first and second floors, and he wasn't near her bedroom on the third floor.  
  
She proceeded onto the fourth floor, where the kitchen and dining area were located. As she hit the top landing and walked down the corridor voices echoed silently to her from the door farthest down the line. She froze.  
  
Maybe I'm just imagining things, she said to herself at first. But when she began again down the hall the voices became clearer rather than fading away. Who could it be? she thought angrily. It couldn't be Leo, neither voice sounded as young as his. And who else was in this barren land? In fact, who else knew they existed?  
  
"Well, the Professor," Crystal whispered to no one. "But why would he be here?"  
  
She inched slowly towards the double doors, her satin shoes silent on the purple rug and her ears leading the way to the unknown visitors.  
  
****  
  
"So let me get this straight," Dumbledore said, sitting up. Draco slouched lower still, his patience ebbing away. "You were simply in your living room one summer evening when Miss Pansy Parkinson dropped by with her parents. You both stayed in the living room to talk while the adults continued on into the kitchen area. Soon you were both thirsty and Pansy offered to get you two drinks. You stayed behind in the living room, not even noticing a hooded figure glide past the living room doors. Am I right so far?"  
  
Dumbledore looked at Draco from over his spectacles. Draco did not respond right away, for his attention was somewhere else. He had the strangest feeling that someone was listening, hearing them; and it couldn't be Potter or any of the trio because he knew when one of them was around. He'd known how to sense them since second year.  
  
"Draco?" Dumbledore urged, breaking into his thoughts.  
  
"Yeah," he said absently. "Yeah, you're right."  
  
The Headmaster nodded. "Okay then. So you were completely oblivious to the commotion in the kitchens, where Pansy was pleading for your parents to use her instead of you. How did you find this out any way?"  
  
"By-...by Pansy. She told me she wanted to do it...willingly."  
  
"Alright then." Dumbledore continued as though this news was not startling. "So then all you can remember now is the hooded figure coming up in front of you and blackness. Then you woke up quite some time later, a few days to be more accurate, and the Dark Mark was on you--just like that? No more memories of anything."  
  
"Pain," Draco breathed, his eyes set, narrowed, on the door. "There was a lot of pain."  
  
"That's what confuses me. I know from my observations and my own spies how a Death Eater receives the Dark Mark. I could tell it hurt, but by the way you describe it, it sounds like torture."  
  
"Maybe he did more than just put a Dark Mark on me," Draco suggested darkly, glancing sidelong at Dumbledore. The Headmaster looked serious.  
  
"Why would you say that?" he asked.  
  
"Because I've known from my own observations that the Dark Mark doesn't always help Voldemort possess his servants or any other kind of things. The most it helps him do is summon them and help decipher his own kind."  
  
"He's possessed you?" Dumbledore asked, thoroughly surprised now. "I'm afraid you neglected to mention that Mr. Malfoy."  
  
"Sorry, must've slipped my mind."  
  
Dumbledore said nothing of his sarcasm. "But that is all, right? Nothing else?"  
  
"No," Draco said, now not really paying attention to what he was saying. "Something happened to me in the library once and I could hear my parent's voices talking to one another. It was like a flashback of a conversation I'd never heard of." Dumbledore was silent. "My mother was telling my father that something wasn't safe, wasn't safe for me. She was questioning a decision about the Dark Lord. But my father said that she should never doubt him. That he had good reasons for choosing me for...for whatever he wanted."  
  
"And what was the reason," Dumbledore asked, as quiet as possible.  
  
"I don't know," Draco replied. "I never got to that part."  
  
"What was the Dark Lord planning? Do you know?" Dumbledore kept his voice low, hoping to get some more information out of Draco while he was distracted, but he turned to the Headmaster instead and answered him full on.  
  
"I don't know what Voldemort's plan is or how I fit into it. But he said there was 'something about me that could feed the spell like no other can'. I don't know about you, but that really sounds bad."  
  
Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"Now my turn," Draco said, accidentally adopting his sarcastic drawl. "So I'm in a world thousands of other worlds away from home. I'm in a place called Enol where two very powerful banished beings, whom I am not to know the names of, live. You came here with Potter for the specific reason concerning his future and you have a hunch that the Dark Lord is planning something about these people who I don't know the names of.  
  
"I'm stuck with the Golden Trio because I can't get back home until Thursday, three days away, and I'm wearing white because it's the color the people without names like. You're not wearing white because the people with no names like the colors you where and I'm stuck with the Golden Trio for three days."  
  
"You mentioned that last part already," Dumbledore pointed out.  
  
"I like to add emphasis to the things that cause me to suffer," Draco said, making the Professor's eyes twinkle with a grin.  
  
"Well, I guess we have all the information we need then, except for one thing," Dumbledore started, but Draco wasn't listening, he was standing up from his seat and looking all around the room. "What is it Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"I have this feeling," he started, "that someone's listening."  
  
Dumbledore looked rather calm. Draco was about to demand why he had to be so darn calm about everything when the double doors suddenly burst open and a girl stood framed in the doorway. Draco couldn't see her face, for the light from the high window behind her cast it in shadow, but he did hear her terrified yell as it reached his ears and beat at his head.  
  
"Crystal, wait," Dumbledore tried, standing up as well. But the girl had ignored him and slammed her hand on the globe embedded into the wall. It glowed a dazzling blue for moments before residing to a clear orb once more. The girl never stopped screaming the entire time, much to the annoyance, and anger, of Draco Malfoy.  
  
****  
  
Ron, Harry and Hermione ran flat out through the tower just to keep up with Leo. It was easy for the boy, of course, for he knew where he was going and where everything was. For the other three, however, it was like running blindly; turning unknown corners and down alien staircases. Numerous times one of them had to think quickly and swivel out of the way of a table or statue or the like, but thankfully no one got hurt.  
  
"Leo," Ron gasped, pulling himself forward to become level with the boy. He was glad, finally, for his tall frame and long legs. "Where are we going?"  
  
"My sister," Leo squeaked, his breath coming in sharp takes. "She's calling for me. It's an emergency."  
  
"Is that what the orb thing was for?" Ron asked, yanking open a heavy wooden door and letting the three go before him.  
  
"Yes," Leo replied, stopping momentarily in a break of paths. He started right, then left, then spun forcefully around to the right again. He stopped in his tracks and looked down both paths that curved away around corners.  
  
"Which way?" Harry questioned, resting his hands on his knees and staring down both ways.  
  
"Does it matter?" Hermione answered back.  
  
Ron came up behind Leo. "It does if we want to find his sister, maybe."  
  
"Ron," Hermione started, glaring at him. "We're in a tower. Either path just meets up with the other one sooner or later."  
  
"You and your education," Ron mumbled. Leo touched a wall.  
  
"This way," he said, and darted down the right hallway again.  
  
****  
  
"LUCIUS!!!" Voldemort boomed, his hands clenched and his voice stressing the floor under him. The entire whole of Malfoy Manor shook violently, due to the angry projection of power coming from the Dark Lord. He watched with his slit-like eyes as Lucius Malfoy walked calmly into the drawing room, his head held high.  
  
"You called, my lord?" he asked, his tone uniquely steady. Voldemort looked as though he were towering over Lucius with every second, his rage making him more cunning by comparison.  
  
"Malfoy, where is the boy!?!" he cried, making the sturdy foundation of the house shiver. "His Dark Mark is not responding to any of the number of spells and charms that we set into it, which, might I add, is IMPOSSIBLE!!! Where is he?"  
  
Lucius stood his ground, the grip on his sleek cane hardening. "My lord, I haven't the faintest idea where my son could be. Are you certain he is not-"  
  
"Are you doubting my efforts?" Voldemort hissed, advancing on Lucius. Lucius tensed up his body.  
  
"No, my lord," he replied.  
  
"Good," Voldemort spat, spinning around and facing the fire. "I have enough problems without my servants suddenly finding a spine in my presence."  
  
A long silence followed this statement; a silence in which Lucius could feel the heat of anger rising in his blood at Draco. Voldemort stood very still, his feet spread apart and his hands clasped forcefully behind his back. He was staring into the fire, letting his own anger slowly build with intensity.  
  
Then BANG!!! All the windows in the room burst apart with the sound of a bomb going off and the fire blazed outward from the hearth. A cold, icy wind howled through the room and a deep and menacing crack weaved its way across the floor. Lucius jumped unconsciously back at this all and shielded his eyes from the flying glass. The heat of the fire made him jump away from it and the cold wind froze him to his bones. Voldemort never moved a muscle.  
  
When it all quieted down, the Dark Lord spoke in but a whisper. "Proceed with the plan. Make sure everyone is doing their job. I want not a thread out of place or it'll be your head that pays for it, Lucius. Now go." Lucius bowed to Voldemort's back and turned to leave when the Dark Lord spoke once more. "By the way, Malfoy," he hissed, his hands gripping into his own flesh, hard. "That was only an introduction to what I will do to your son when I find the boy." He turned his head to gaze at Lucius.  
  
"A well deserved punishment," Lucius replied, nodding to him. Voldemort smiled and turned back to the fire as Lucius walked out of the room, his face bland and not a trace of emotion found upon him.  
  
****  
  
"Who are you?" Crystal demanded, walking into the room with her hand held out to blast anything that came after her. She still couldn't make out their faces, for the hallway behind her was bright with sunlight and the dining area had been lit only with candles and torches. Her eyes were taking a moment to adjust to the dimness.  
  
"Crystal it's me," the professor said, stepping forward.  
  
"Dumbledore?!" Crystal exclaimed, squinting into his face. Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly. "Oh," Crystal started. "I mean Professor Dumbledore." He smiled.  
  
"Hello Miss Tiara." Dumbledore smiled as Crystal ran toward him and hugged him. Draco was a bit surprised at this sudden intruder, but by an instinct that had been drilled into him, he remained quiet.  
  
"Professor, why-why are you here? It can't be January in your world already, can it? It's too soon." The girl backed away from the Headmaster and looked up to him. Draco noted that her eyes were incredibly eerie, being such a dark blue that they were almost black. It was unnerving.  
  
"No Crystal, it is still many, many weeks until our assigned meeting is at hand. But I could not wait any longer and I simply had to get Harry Potter to you as soon as possible. There was no way to contact you in time."  
  
"Harry Potter?" the girl said, her midnight eyes going wide. "Harry Potter is here? In the tower? Right now? I can't believe it..." She sounded pleased, excited and completely horrified at the same time. Draco, personally, felt disgusted.  
  
"Here we go again," he grumbled. "Famous Harry Potter. Even the banished 'no-namers' know who he is. That has got to be the most-"  
  
"You." The girl was now looking at Draco, her dark eyes startled and yet blank. Draco glared at her from across the table, the sun from the hallway making his white-blonde hair glow. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he looked positively smug. To most of the girls back at Hogwarts, seeing him in this light would have been breath-taking, but Crystal just returned his smug look. "Draco Malfoy, right?"  
  
"That's right," he replied, unable to help his usual nasty greeting nature. "So now you know me and I know you. Oh wait, my mistake...I don't know you. Who are you?"  
  
Crystal narrowed her eyes. "I'm-"  
  
"Wait," Draco interrupted, holding up a hand to silence her. Crystal held her tongue. "Professor, is this a no-namer?"  
  
"I beg your pardon," Crystal said, sounding indignant and a little amused.  
  
"You can beg all you want but I won't give you either pardon or an apology," Draco answered calmly. Crystal cocked an eyebrow.  
  
"Yes, Draco. She is what you have called her, but it is her official name that I cannot tell you about. Not in these circumstances at least. But you are allowed to know her birth name," Dumbledore answered. He would have corrected Draco's rude attitude to Crystal, but he knew Crystal had one as well; and a taste of one another's medicine through some tough arguments would most likely do them both some good. He would have depended on Harry to do that to Draco years ago, but Harry was just simply too civil and kind.  
  
"Tiara, Crystal Tiara. Nice to meet you," Crystal said, though she obviously didn't mean it. She took a step forward and stretched out her arm across the table, holding out her hand in a positive gesture. Draco saw that she looked a little like Granger, just a little more sinister. Her hair was a darker brown and of course her eyes darker still. She was a bit paler, but not so much as Draco, and she looked a little gaunt in the face.  
  
Draco knew it was polite to shake her hand and make a truce then and there, but he wasn't the kind of guy to do something polite. He wasn't raised that way. He father taught him that if they look lower than your station then treat them lower than your station. Draco kept his arms folded and continued to glare. Crystal scowled and pulled back her hand.  
  
"Scratch that, I take it back," she spat, falling into the seat Dumbledore had sat in. "It's not nice to meet you."  
  
"Pity for me," Draco responded, uninterested. Crystal began to open her mouth to retort but something greatly distracted her, along with Draco and Dumbledore.  
  
Footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor, growing louder by the second. Then a voice called out Crystal's name and Draco recognized it as the kid's voice.  
  
"Leo," Crystal called. "Leo, I'm in the dining room."  
  
The boy didn't answer for a few seconds, but then they saw a small body skid past the doorway and heard a dull 'ow' from in the hall. Draco couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"Leo, are you okay?" Hermione said, appearing in the doorway with Harry and Ron. They were all looking down the hall, their faces worried but trying hard to suppress a smile. Crystal leaned back in her chair, trying to look around the doorway to see what had happened to her little brother.  
  
"Yeah, yeah I think I am," he answered, walking back into view, rubbing his shoulder. "I think I dented the wall though."  
  
"Come in here, you," Crystal said, shaking her head. Leo started in, then turned around to the other three waiting tentatively in the hall.  
  
"I want you three to come in too. I want you to meet my sister, Crystal," he said. Harry looked to Ron, Ron looked to Harry, and Harry and Ron looked to Hermione. They looked questionably into the room, and it dawned on Draco that, because of the blazing light outside, they couldn't see anyone in the darkened room.  
  
Quite the opposite affect of what should have happened, for if the sun was pouring from the windows then the room should have been illuminated. Draco guessed it had to do with the magic surrounding the place.  
  
"Listen to the kid, Potter," Draco called, taking a step back and leaning against the wall. Harry looked up abruptly and searched the room.  
  
"Malfoy? Are you in there? Is the Professor with you as well?" Harry asked.  
  
"Just get in here," Draco answered, a bit angry. Harry narrowed his eyes to no one, but stepped into the room, Ron and Hermione right behind them. Crystal suddenly gasped as she caught sight of them, and they stopped in their tracks as they spied her as well. The tension in the room that had already been there increased with rapid speed, almost suffocating everyone present.  
  
As Leo closed the door, he shut the hallway away from the gaping mouths, the wide eyes, the horrified looks, and Draco leaning against the wall looking as miserable as ever.  
  
****  
  
Draco stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself tiredly. He was slumped back in the chair, his back thrown backward, his arms hanging limply at his sides, and his eyelids drooping over his grey eyes, but despite his fatigued state, Draco looked as though he were all set to join the royal family in a feast.  
  
His clothes had changed, though not very much so as to alter the color at all. He was still dressed in white. But his plain tunic and trousers had been disposed of and he now looked like a marquis on his way to court.  
  
The new, sparkling white tunic and overcoat Leo had shown him was extremely long, looking more like a robe then anything else, with it row of buttons reaching to the hem. Draco did not bother to close the robe, but left it open, not having the strength to work his fingers. It hung loosely around him, and was very comfortable. His shirt was embroidered down the front and the buttons were made from ivory.  
  
His new trousers were spotless and Draco, who cared about what clothes he wore, had to admit that this outfit made him look darn good. He felt and looked refreshed, having taken a long shower before he redressed, but he couldn't have felt more tired in his life, except for when he had woken up after...  
  
After Potter, Granger, and Weasley had entered the room, Draco knew that trouble would arise, and he knew right off the bat that it would be Weasley who would cause it. Sure enough, after a few strained moments of shocked silence, Ron had found his tongue and started screaming at the top of his lungs, yelling at the Tiara girl and mentioning something about a dream and him dying. Draco really could have cared less, but his head was still pounding from the journey.  
  
He simply remained in the corner of the room, his face set into a frown, but his body much too weak to issue anything other than that. He had completely lost the rest of what had happened in his short stupor, but soon the kid was leading him and the trio out the door and up the staircases. He kept well away from any of them, and he still despised spending three whole days with no one to talk to but them, but he didn't say much.  
  
For some strange reason, he found that only a small fraction of him cared; his mind kept reeling back to a sure punishment from the Dark Lord when he found out what Draco had done.  
  
****  
  
Harry pulled the heavy gold fastenings of his cloak around his shoulders and linked them together over his chest. He did this with trembling fingers, the cold and his nerves making him uneasy. Taking in a deep breath, Harry turned around and faced the floor length mirror hanging on the wall. Harry could never remember ever seeing a changing room as luxurious as this, but he pushed aside his admiration and gazed at his reflection.  
  
His green eyes took in the crisp white trousers, the satin collared shirt, and the white cape hanging around him. He looked like a prince from a story book, if nothing else, and Harry found it a little strange. He had never really cared about what he wore, never cared if he was in fashion with everyone else. It wasn't hard not to care with friends like Ron and Hermione who thought along his terms as well.  
  
Harry took off his glasses and cleaned them on his cape, running a worried hand through his hair. He thought he looked ridiculous, like a spruced up poodle, but he did not dare to change out of it, for Leo had been deliberate on his clothing.  
  
Leo had explained to all four of them, on their way to their rooms, that he and his sister always got fixed up for dinner, and that they should too. Leo also explained that it really was his idea, and that he convinced Crystal to follow the code as well.  
  
"It's just the way things run here," he had said, opening the door to Malfoy's chamber. But Harry had other things on his mind rather than his wardrobe.  
  
Though Harry, Ron and Hermione had wanted to bombard Crystal with indignant questions and polite accusations, Dumbledore had raised a hand and called a stop to them. Ron had blurted out an outraged reply and demanded to be told why they couldn't know the truth behind her 'attacks'. Dumbledore said that it was quite in their agreement for him to know the answers, but now wasn't the time.  
  
"Emotions are high, you're head is not in a forgiving state, and you are all very tired and drained," the Headmaster had said. Upon those words Harry had begun to feel the weight of his body increase.  
  
He had looked to Crystal and saw that her eyes had gone dark, which was saying something as they were already deeper than usual to begin with. But she was looking at him without looking at him. Her eyes had literally clouded over shadow, as if a black sheet had been pulled over them. Then the blackness dissolved and the tint of midnight blue returned. Harry looked at her, puzzled, and she had looked away to the floor.  
  
"I suggest we all take a long rest, freshen up, and discuss these matters over dinner. Would you agree?" Dumbledore asked, looking hard at Ron. Harry could here Ron's retort even before he had parted his lips, so he raised a hand behind himself to silence his stillborn protest.  
  
"Agreed," he had answered, looking directly at Dumbledore and no where else. After that, Leo had volunteered to show them to their chambers. They went up, Dumbledore side, and Crystal down. Dinner would be at seven and everyone was to dress for the occasion.  
  
Harry replaced his glasses and looked up and suddenly felt a chill as Crystal's familiar face entered his mind. He could see her face, the face of a girl who had tormented him and his friends since before the school year; the crazed gaze that had penetrated their lives so many times that year.staring at him from down the corridor, looking at him from in his room, whispering to him during lesson...and causing him pain that he could still feel in the pit of his stomach.  
  
****  
  
Ron couldn't say anything, because his jaw was cemented shut and he couldn't move. Behind her surprised face, Ron could see those glowing eyes, feel the pain of death, and remember the darkness of his dreams. His expression was mirrored off this girl...this...normal, sane girl? No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be the same one who had terrified him to hysteria. It couldn't be...  
  
****  
  
Hermione was not surprised, wasn't shocked and wasn't scared. She was relieved. She suspected that everyone in the room mistook her sigh for a gasp, and her step back for a jump. This was the face that had ripped through her heart and caused her to cower in fear of her male classmates, but it was also the face that had guided her through it all and had been trying to figure out a way to break her spell. Yet questions still raced through her head, and Hermione was one who did not like not knowing their answers.  
  
****  
  
"Come on Ron, dinner starts at seven and we can't be late," Hermione said, hurrying down the curved hallway, the skirt of her new dress bunched in her hands. The soft, silk slippers on her feet prevented any sound of her footsteps to be heard. She paused near a window and looked back to where Ron was casually walking along. The sunset outside cast the tower into shadows and illuminated his fiery-red hair.  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming. I still don't know how you can run in that thing when I can barely move in this," Ron said, indicating his own clothing. He looked to be wearing a suit with a shirt collar on the button down jacket and gold buttons all along it and his shirt.  
  
"You look like your wearing an Armani," Hermione stated, smoothing her skirt around her.  
  
"A what?"  
  
"Never you mind it, Ron, we still have to find Harry."  
  
Ron looked past her and down the corridor. "You're sure he's down this way? Are you cold?" he asked, noticing her shiver a bit.  
  
"Just a little," she replied. "It's this gown. I've never worn anything off the shoulder like this, even though it is gorgeous." Hermione rubbed her bare shoulder, thankful that the sleeves were nice and long. The wrists of the sleeves and the front of the dress ended in a V shape, and the skirt seemed to fold into itself endlessly, making it fan out in a blossom when she spun.  
  
"Alright then," he said, walking past her. "I think you're right, this is where we came from and we dropped Harry off before either of us."  
  
Hermione stopped him. "Do you think we need to get Malfoy?"  
  
"Who gives a care to Malfoy? If he wasn't paying attention to where we were going, then good job to him."  
  
"I guess you're right," she replied. She gathered her dress up in her hands again. "Let's grab Harry then and get downstairs."  
  
****  
  
"I didn't need an escort. I know where to go," Draco said to Leo as the two descended their third staircase.  
  
"Well I'm so very sorry," Leo replied, exaggerating each word. "But Dumbledore said to go get you. He said you looked a little out of it and he wasn't sure if you knew where to go."  
  
"Well I did, and I'm quite capable of taking care of myself," Draco shot back.  
  
Leo looked up to him. "If you asked my opinion then I would agree with Dumbledore. You looked sort of weird, like you weren't paying attention. How did you know where to go?"  
  
"Well," Draco began, sighing heavily at the thought of speech. He had grown weaker rather then stronger over the small period before dinner. "I didn't ask for your opinion. But if you must know then I suppose there really isn't any harm in telling you. Since I was a boy I was trained to know things, observe the people around me, the things around, and the environments around. I had to pick up every single detail, know what people felt like to decipher them, know where one staircase was and where each window was located. My father said it would help me in Quidditch and other times in my life."  
  
Leo stared at him, then suddenly looked away and then exclaimed, "Oh! So that explains everything."  
  
"Everything?"  
  
"Yes." Leo looked back up to him. "When Ron was in the hospital wing in your first year and you found out about the dragon from the letter in his book. He thought you were there to laugh at him, but you were there for the letter. You'd already known about it."  
  
"Yeah," Draco answered off-handedly. "I could tell by the way the three of them had been acting that there was something wrong. I watched them, and Weasley suddenly had this weird hand bite and so many other signals."  
  
"And it's also how you knew that someone was listening to you and Dumbledore talk, right? You knew my sister was nearby."  
  
"Yeah, I guess-wait, how do you know about that?" Draco asked a bit puzzled. Leo gave him a look that Granger had used so many times as her signature look: the Wow-you're-so-dumb- that-you-don't-know-the-answer look.  
  
"Dumbledore told you my sister and I are really powerful, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And he told you how I can see the past, right?"  
  
"Yeah, he mentioned that," Draco replied.  
  
"Well, that was in the past, and so of course I know," Leo said. "I know everything about the past." They continued down their corridor, the setting sun outside casting autumn colors all around them. Leo glanced up at Draco, his young face filled with uncertain knowledge and incomprehensible wisdom.  
  
Draco pretended he could not feel his penetrating gaze, making sure his focus stayed glued on the slowly falling star outside. His hands found themselves into the pockets of his robe and his usually stiff pale hair began to fall limply around his face. Minutes passed.  
  
Then suddenly, Draco knew, without seeing, that Leo had stopped walking with him a few seconds ago. The emptiness of no one beside him made him oddly uncomfortable, but he made no move to wait for the boy; he kept on walking.  
  
"Draco," Leo called, his voice sounding younger than he usually had it. Draco slowed his steps, but did not halt fully.  
  
"Yes," he answered back, his drawl tired and worn.  
  
"Do you-," Leo began, a slight quiver in his words. "Do.do you want to know what happened?" he finally said. Draco froze immediately.  
  
"What are you talking about?" he questioned, not turning back, his cold fingers growing tense in his pockets. Leo stalled a bit.  
  
"I- I know everything in the past, so of course I would know what happened that one time. If you'd like to know.I would be more than happy to tell-."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Draco repeated, his tone no harsher than Leo's.  
  
"That night," the boy answered. "Do you recall it? It's that night that you can never remember. I know what happened.well, I guess I know it. I'd have to summon it up from the back of my mind but." he trailed off.  
  
Draco turned around slowly. His eyes fell upon the small figure of the boy a little way away from him, his tiny silhouette in the twilight colors making him look ghostly. "You know," he replied. It wasn't a question.  
  
"Yes," Leo replied. "I know it all."  
  
"And you could tell me?" Draco asked, unable to cease the increasing pounding of his heart. Leo chanced a step back.  
  
"Not exactly yet.but I'm sure I could, if I asked permission first."  
  
"Permission?"  
  
"Yes," he said, twiddling with tunic hem. Draco began walking back to him and for the first time noticed that, even though this tiny boy was the one who requested the formal dinner, he had not changed out of his earlier wardrobe. "I need permission," he told him, his face just as serious as Draco's. "I'm not so sure I can tell you straight out without-,"  
  
"Who do you need permission from?" Draco interrupted. "Do you have to talk to Dumbledore or something?"  
  
"Oh no," Leo told him. "I need to ask the one who has granted me my power, the Higher Being. If he finds it fit into his plans, then yes, I can tell you. I'll ask him now."  
  
"Who's the -," Draco started, but Leo cut him off.  
  
"Please Mr. Malfoy," he said, resembling Dumbledore when he needed to do something of great importance. "I need to concentrate all my magic into this if I want to ask permission. If I do not, then I will be much too exhausted to go to dinner. Now hush, before I lose my concentration."  
  
But Draco did not hush. He looked to this strange little boy in awe, his features making sure not to give himself away. Then, for the first time since he had arrived in this place, he let fall his cruel and hateful shield and suddenly became the Draco that no one could have suspected, one who embodied everything the common one did not.  
  
With heartfelt words of empty vastness, Draco asked, "Why go through so much trouble for me?"  
  
No remorse could be found, no sense of pity or admiration heard, not even an inkling of appreciation.only the dull, bland echo of a question.  
  
Leo suddenly looked him straight in the eyes, his brow furrowed. "Why not? I have seen you before Draco, and you are not who you put on. You play with the attitude of being the high-ranking bully, but you are much deeper than that. And for that I look up to you." Draco was slightly shocked, never having heard anything like that before.  
  
But Leo took his silence as his cue, and then raised his eyes to the ceiling. "This will take some time," he said, never changing his gaze. "It will be much longer than time is needed to get downstairs. Do you mind to wait?" he flicked his stare to Draco before returning it to the ceiling once more.  
  
"No," Draco replied, hesitating not an ounce. "I can wait."  
  
****  
  
"Ron?" Hermione called, looking down the corridor hopefully. The sun was sinking fast and the light she needed to see properly was fading away. Somehow, after the two friends had retrieved a very royal looking Harry, the two boys had decided to go exploring without telling her. In her confusion, Hermione had lost all knowledge of where she was and was now probably more lost than the boys.  
  
"Harry?" she called, turning around the bend. "Where are you two?"  
  
"Hermione?" a voice answered back, but it was neither Harry's nor Ron's. It wasn't even Draco's. Hermione spun around just in time to see the last rays of the sun fall onto the haunted, gaunt face of Crystal.  
  
****  
  
Draco did nothing, just stood very still, watching the boy as he stared fixedly at the ceiling above, but there was more behind his eyes than simple gazing. From the trained eyes of Malfoy, he could see an entire conversation revolve behind his simple blue eyes, which were not as dark as his sister's yet not as pale as Weasley's. He saw curiosity, wonderment, intrigue and realization.  
  
Though he wanted very much to open his mouth and ask what he was doing, Draco kept quiet, and the anticipation of what was to come pounding in his blood and into his ears.  
  
Then Leo's face turned suddenly to horror, and he looked down abruptly to Draco, not just fear behind his eyes but severe pity.  
  
"I-I don't think you want to know," he blurted out, his eyes wide.  
  
"What?! No! Leo, what are you talking about?" Draco demanded, his rage weak. Leo shook his head.  
  
"I.just don't think you're ready to see it, that's all." He stepped forward to continue on their journey to dinner, but Draco moved into his way.  
  
"Did you not get permission or something?" he pressed, thriving for answers. Leo dropped his head to the ground.  
  
"No, I did. He allowed me to choose whether to tell you or not myself. He said that either way, your fate is sealed; and Crystal will be foretelling it sooner or later." He looked up, and somehow he reminded Draco of himself, when he was very young. "But I think it best to not tell you." He ducked past Draco and began to hurry down the corridor, but Draco was just as determined as he.  
  
"Not even, kid! You already offered me the chance to know and I accepted, now tell me!" He threw out his hand to catch Leo by the arm, and as he did Leo shouted, "Draco, no!" But it was too late.  
  
The moment his fingers clasped themselves around the boy's thin arm, Draco felt as though the last drops of strength he had left slipped away. He was falling back into something, like a memory. Darkness claimed his vision, and he was not sure if it was from the arriving night or the touch of the boy.  
  
Thousands of other scenes flashed past him, different people of all kinds, one he had never even imagined before. Then, as the shadows around him grew darker still, the people in the scenes began to look vaguely familiar. First it was people he had seen once before, like those you pass in the street. Then they became his classmates of superior distance: there was Finnigan and Bulstrode.there was that Ravenclaw Chang girl and the Patil twins.  
  
Then came his professors, followed by his close family friends. Then he felt his body tense up as memories, (for that was what Draco had recognized them as), of Potter, Weasley and Granger whizzed past. Next came his parents, his father and mother, and then..pure nothing.  
  
****  
  
"Crystal," Hermione whispered, her fear ebbing away to relief. "You startled me."  
  
"I did not mean to," she replied, smiling friendly. Hermione cringed a little. Her smile was eerie, and had no notion of a friendly air around it at all. Crystal began walking towards her, the sun rays disappearing coincidentally into the night as she passed them. "Why were you calling out Harry Potter's name?" she asked. Hermione shrugged and looked out the window.  
  
"I've lost them somewhere, both him and Ron," she replied. "Have you seen them?"  
  
Crystal was level with her now. Hermione noticed that she was only a little taller than herself, and that they greatly resembled each other in small, but distinct ways; their brown hair, their light skin, the darkness of their eyes. It was a bit mind-boggling.  
  
"No," she answered regretfully. "I am afraid I haven't had as much luck as you."  
  
A very uncomfortable pause followed this statement; and somehow, Hermione did not feel the fear she had expected in being this close to Crystal. She felt.relaxed. It was as if, for the first time in her life, she was just hanging out with a girl her own age. Despite that fact the Crystal was probably years and years older than her, for she was. And even though her features betrayed her as an elder, Hermione felt she knew Crystal as a long time friend.  
  
"I'm so very sorry," Crystal suddenly said. Hermione turned her head quickly to her and noticed that she was not looking at her, but out the window as well.  
  
"Sorry for what?" Hermione asked. Crystal sighed.  
  
"For everything. For the Love spell, for the visions, for the pain, for the threats, for the interventions.for everything. I'm sorry for everything."  
  
Hermione did not reply.  
  
****  
  
Draco was standing in his living room at Malfoy Manor. He was wearing the clothes that he had worn the night he got the Mark. He was standing in the same exact place when he saw the cloaked figure glide into the room and.  
  
Draco's blood turned to ice. How was it possible? How was it possible at all? This couldn't be the same night, could it? The same night when he had received the mark; when he had found himself stiff with ever growing pain and torment, when he had briefly lost knowledge of all sense in the world. How was it possible?  
  
Suddenly a surge of power washed over him, and he felt as though the inner hold he had on his body was being lifted away. Thoughts he hadn't had since that night came back, feelings, emotions and actions. Then words began to fill his mouth, the same words he had spoken that night.  
  
"Pansy where are you? What's keeping you so long?" Draco's eyes went wide. He wanted to run, wanted to get away from there as fast as possible, but it was as though his body and mind had disconnected, and he was simply watching through the eyes of his own memory.  
  
****  
  
Hermione walked slowly beside Crystal, twiddling her hands in front of her and not looking at the girl to her right. Crystal was somewhat the exact opposite. Her hands were clasped behind her back and she was looking up into the ceiling.  
  
"I really don't know why I do it," she randomly began. "I just started to one day."  
  
"What?" Hermione asked, not sure on what she was talking about.  
  
"When I started contacting people in your world," she answered in the same lazed voice.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yes," Crystal continued. "For sometime now I haven't been myself. I'd lose my mind in my power. It's great power you know," she pointed, getting a crazed sort of look in her eyes. Hermione pretended she saw nothing. "No one should have power like this."  
  
"What did it do to you?" Hermione questioned. She didn't feel uncomfortable about the question, because it was quite clear that Crystal was extremely open with it.  
  
"It does horrid things; when I use my magic, it just kind of takes over me. I was able to fight it before, when it was weak, but not now. Now it's too hard."  
  
"So why do you come to people like Harry and Ron and me?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Because I can," Crystal replied. Hermione looked confused.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
Crystal sighed heavily. "I said because I can. That's why I come to people like you, because I can."  
  
She glanced sideways at her and noticed her puzzlement increase instead of decrease. "I don't know what else to say to you but the truth. When I was younger I never realized I had the power to intervene into the lives of others elsewhere, but when I discovered the talent I became obsessed. I had spent so many years in isolation, with no one to talk to other than my brother, and he was only a baby.  
  
"Then one night, when I was sleeping, I guess my longing for human contact grew to such a rate that I actually left my body and traveled the thousands of worlds over to yours. I discovered that I could venture into your world in my astral projection form and still obtain my powers. That was enough to get me hooked. I began to neglect the things around me, my own well-fare, the home I lived in.my very own brother.  
  
"That was when my magic began to grow at an alarming rate. It started shredding at my mind, making me oblivious to the things around me that were real. As I left this world behind more frequently I became ignorant to the reality back here. Leo had just begun fending for himself and he had taken it upon himself to care for me as well. The thought of my neglect for him still haunts me to this very moment."  
  
Hermione had nothing to say to this remark. She continued to focus on her feet, keeping one in front of the other. Crystal cast her one glance, and then proceeded with their one-sided conversation.  
  
"You're wondering why I came to you three and caused you so much pain, am I right?" she asked. Hermione was snapped out of her trance.  
  
"What? N-no! No, not at all," she answered quickly. "Of course not."  
  
"Don't lie," Crystal told her, her voice calm. "I'm an Oracle, I know everything." She grinned at her, and it was less menacing than her smile. It was genuine.  
  
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe I did want to know. Alright then, yes.yes, I do."  
  
****  
  
Draco watched, frozen with astonishment, as he felt himself slowly sink back into an armchair by the fire. His breath caught in his chest as the remembered every single thing around. He remembered how the fire began to flicker like that, how the cool, summer breeze began to beat harder against the windows, and how the muffled sounds of Pansy pleading with someone did not strike him as suspicious then.  
  
"Draco," he heard someone say. He looked around the edge of his chair and saw Pansy walking toward him. She was smiling flirtatiously at him like usual, but she seemed a little.nervous. "Draco, maybe we should go outside and talk. I wouldn't want to stay in here." She was next to him now.  
  
Draco somehow already knew his answer to this statement. "Go outside? Pansy, it may be evening but it's sweltering hot outside. No, I'd rather much like to stay in here." He leaned back. Then Draco became aware of the sudden feeling of cold flooding the room. Pansy said nothing about it, but he knew from the way she tensed beside him that she felt it. Her only reaction to it however was that she looked back to the doorway of the room, and then backed away from Draco.  
  
"You should have listened to me," she whispered, before settling herself into a corner. Draco stared at her.  
  
"What are you talking about?" he heard himself snap at her, but Pansy said nothing more. Her eyes were now glued onto the shadow gliding into the room behind Draco. Following her gaze, Draco looked up, and found that a hooded, menacing figure stood above him. "Who are you?" he demanded, though in his mind he struggled with himself not to say anything. Speaking was the wrong thing to do.  
  
The thing standing above him did not respond, but raised a hand towards Draco. The pale white hand held a dark, polished wand, and the wand tip was pointed at Draco's heart.  
  
"What do you thing you're doing?" Draco cried, starting to stand up, but he didn't have time.  
  
"Imobulios," the figure said. Draco felt his entire body seize up. His arms froze and his legs stiffened under him. He fell back to his chair, his gray eyes not scared, but angry. In the background, he could hear Pansy's pleading voice.  
  
"Draco! Mrs. Malfoy, please! As I said before, I would willingly do this! What good is a host subject to the spell if it is not willing?"  
  
"Pansy, hush now." It was Narcissa's voice. "Let Him do what he wants." Draco noted that her voice was kept low, as though she were too afraid to speak out loud. He wanted to call to his mother, scream to her and ask what was going on. His mind reeling from everything he would see and hear, but his body would not give away to the spell.  
  
"But Mrs. Malfoy I-,"  
  
"Pansy," Mrs. Parkinson started. "I think you should go into the kitchen."  
  
"But Mom I-,"  
  
"Now honey." She sounded stern. Draco flicked his eyes to the side and saw her sigh heavily, glance at him, and then shiver slightly as she stared at the hooded being and then leave the room quickly. Draco mimicked her actions and turned his vision to his other side, where the shadow had moved out from behind his chair and into the light of the fire.  
  
The unknown visitor faced away from him and towards the blazing flames. It tucked its wand into the depths of its robes, and then lifted its hands to pull back the midnight black of his hood. At the same moment he turned his head back to face Draco, and if he still had the use of his mouth, he would have surely cried out in surprise and sure-fire fear.  
  
The nose like slits, the skin abnormally pale and the eyes that glowed with malice stared at him. It was Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord glared at him for just a moment, and then averted his cold stare to look past Draco's chair.  
  
"You are sure it has to be him?" Lucius' voice asked. Draco wanted to turn his head to look at his father, but he didn't have to. Lucius came walking around the side of the table to stand only a fraction closer to Voldemort.  
  
"I have told you before," the Dark Lord replied. "He has it in him to hold it. I am surprised you did not recognize it when he was younger. That disappoints me."  
  
"I am sorry, my lord," Lucius replied, staring down at his son. "I did notice a certain something in him that caught my eye for a moment. He had the air of it around him, but I never thought to look further into it."  
  
"There is your problem then," Voldemort replied, walking slowly around to the armchair. "You did not think." He looked up and beckoned forward more Death Eaters, each one cloaked and hooded; no, wait, not everyone. There was his mother and the Parkinson's, neither of them hooded. He saw that his mother looked worriedly at the Dark Lord, but then pulled her cloak over her head to cover her face. She then joined the line of Death Eaters that had created a semi-circle around Draco.  
  
Suddenly a sharp pain shot up Draco's left arm and he shot his eyes to his arm. The Dark Lord was standing there, his wand out again and its tip once again pointed to him. Draco's mind cried out in pain as he realized that his arm was moving up, up towards the Dark Lord. Because he was under the a Freezing charm, and the Dark Lord was commanding his frozen muscles to move as well, the pain of two opposite spells cut through him inwardly.  
  
"Look at him Malfoy," Voldemort hissed. "Look at your son. Do you see it now? Look into his eyes and you will see it. There, do you see it now, my faithful Death Eater? That is why he is perfect for the job; and that is why I am fortunate enough to have recruited him before he turned into it fully. Imagine the dire consequences to that mistake. Why, he could have created a legend all his own if he did."  
  
He paced across the circle, the fire growing slowly dimmer in his wake. Draco followed him with his eyes, his detached mind horrified by all this new information. "He will be the core of the plan, as I have discussed with all of you. He will be the key to my immortality and eternal reign of power."  
  
"My lord," one of the Death Eaters began. "Not to object to your judgment, but is this similar to that of Harry Potter?"  
  
Draco felt his heart catch in his throat. Voldemort only continued to pace.  
  
"Avery, have you neglected to listen to me? You cannot compare this boy to Harry Potter, though in importance they are surely equal. Do you not remember my reasons for wanting to kill the boy?"  
  
If Draco could move, his eyes would have widened. Would he be lucky enough to discover two answers tonight? Why the Dark Lord chose him and why he wanted to murder Harry?  
  
"My lord," Avery responded. "Forgive me but, you never speak of your reasons for wanting the boy dead."  
  
"Well then," Voldemort answered, "there is your answer." He walked back to the armchair and placed the tip of his index finger onto Draco's exposed arm. A freezing chill ran up it. "But for now, let us begin with the Engraving." He focused his eyes to pierce directly into his face and opened his mouth to begin. Draco braced himself for the coming pain, the flashing light, the murmur of voices.  
  
And then it was gone. He could feel his body coming back into his control, and with the use of his limbs the scene he had been in dissolved into the whirling darkness. The feeling of being thrown back devoured him, and then the blackness dissolved into the tower.  
  
He was kneeling on the ground, his hand still clasped about Leo's arm and the setting sun gone now, only to be replaced by the blazing moon. Leo was looking pale white at him, his blue eyes wide and his breathing shallow.  
  
"L-Leo." Draco began, and then noticed that his own breath was less than deep. "Leo, wh-what the hell was."  
  
"I told you no," Leo suddenly snapped, his voice deep and angry; then he yanked his arm out of Draco's grasp and ran off down the corridor and through the door at the far end.  
  
****  
  
"I came to Harry first," Crystal began, slowing her trot to a mere walk. "He had not been my top choice for a victim, but he had made me come to him."  
  
"Made you?" Hermione asked, confused. "How could he? He hadn't even known about you?"  
  
"Oh, not on purpose, of course; but he was a factor in it. I had been in my dungeon, wasting away like I had always done, when I suddenly received a jolt of power echoing from your world. I had a sudden spur-of-the-moment vision, and I had seen him in it. The details of that vision are clouded to me now, since that was when I had been.disposed. All I know is that I had seen something with him and the Dark Lord in it, and it was terrible. But I had liked terrible things back then.I was a horrid monster."  
  
Hermione glanced to her side and saw that, although Crystal did not hesitate in telling her everything, she did look terribly shamed by it, and not at all proud of her actions.  
  
"It wasn't your fault," she said, trying to comfort the other girl. "You and Dumbledore have both explained how great your magic is; it was only you reacting to it."  
  
"Yes, but I could have fought it," Crystal answered. "I had been able to before. But when I got the first taste of my powers, I was addicted; then I saw Harry. The famous boy, Harry Potter, who had defeated a being worthy enough to challenge even me. A boy with a past so tragic and a future so clouded that every turn in his life was a danger unto himself. I had been watching him ever since he was a boy, making sure each path I threw at him was successfully crossed. He never disappointed me."  
  
Hermione smiled at this, for it was true. Harry never did disappoint anyone, not really. He had always been faced with obstacles that should have thrown him to his knees, or worse, kill him. But every time he had to struggle to hold on to his life. She knew that he had always been too modest for his own good, and said that he was just always lucky; but everyone knew there was just something about Harry that made him so special.  
  
"But then something in him changed. He was in constant fear since the beginning of fourth year, and the fear kept mounting higher and higher as the year progressed. Never before had I realized such fright in him, and it was unnerving. I tried to seek out his future on my own time, struggling to single it out among the various ages of lives I am responsible for. But the Higher Being must had denied this, for I never saw what was to come until it was too late. Harry Potter was special boy.  
  
"Now, remember, I was insane then, so it was even harder for me to think anywhere but straight. I took joy in seeing him duel Voldemort, yet somewhere inside of me I knew that it was wrong of me. Then, as I had been shackled to the wall by my own self and preparing to intervene in someone else's life, something radiating from Harry hit me, and I saw the vision, as I have told you. Later on, I got a calling from Dumbledore, which was strange, for he never called me for anything, only Leo.  
  
"He came to us for a favor, asking us to break all code of law in the universe to find out the destiny of one, Harry Potter. Of course Leo, who had been my caretaker then, refused forcibly at first, for we had already asked permission from the Higher Being, out of tremendous gratefulness, to let us help Dumbledore in his battle against the Dark Lord. This would certainly push the envelope too far.  
  
"But the Higher Being said he would allow it, just this once, and he gave his blessing. Well, since I was to gaze in all three of your futures by will of another, I wanted to see how trust-worthy you three were. That was my first reason for intervening with you three."  
  
"But what were the other reasons? Why use an Unforgivable Curse on Harry? And then threaten Ron with his life and the life of his sister? And why did you show me-.show me your death? What were the reasons for that?!" Hermione persisted, unable to keep her accusing tone neutral. Crystal looked to the ground.  
  
"I'm sorry Hermione, I can't tell you the answers to those questions, not now at least," she replied.  
  
"And why not?" Hermione continued. Crystal looked up now, at the door that was now in front of them. It would be their last one before they reached the floor that would take them to the dining room level.  
  
"Because I don't know why," she replied. "Wait, just listen to me first. I don't know why I did those things because I was in a completely different state then. Since I'm neutral now, I have only the smallest clue onto why I did those things, not a detailed one. I'm sorry," she added, seeing the crestfallen face of Hermione.  
  
"So you can't give us anything? Not even a clue?"  
  
"No." Crystal hesitated. "But if you really want to know, there is one thing I can do to help you."  
  
Hermione's mood rose exceptionally. "You can? How?!"  
  
"If I return to the state I was in when I knew," Crystal replied, "then I'll be able to tell you everything."  
  
"But there's something more, isn't there?" Hermione prodded, aware of the sorrow in Crystal's voice. "There's something bad about going back to your original state."  
  
"It's because I'm dangerous when I use my powers at their full potency. I become a new, more merciless person then. Which, might I add, was why the Higher Being and Leo were resistant towards Dumbledore when he asked us if I could see his future in the beginning."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "Then we can't make you do that; it wouldn't be fair to you or Leo. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have sounded so eager."  
  
"Nonsense," the other girl said. "You have every right to know, because I'm the one who gave you the questions in the first place. So I am completely sure when I say that I will use my sight to help you, all of you." She raised a hand to interrupt Hermione's unspoken protest. "But this time, I'll do something different. I'll fight it."  
  
She smiled at her again, but this time it didn't look as menacing as before. Hermione gladly returned the smile, and then the two girls entered the dining room in high spirits, not knowing that they had already begun a partnership that would last forever and an eternity.  
  
****  
  
Draco dragged himself down the hallways, making glum turns on the stairways and corners, trying to get to the dining area as slowly as he could. He couldn't stay inside for very long, he had to get into the fresh air, into the night; for that was where he belonged. But although his body was working in a slow yet motioned pace, his mind was stuck in time, replaying every last scene and every last word that Draco had experienced when he grabbed Leo's arm.  
  
Leo. Draco couldn't help but feel some foreign emotion of regret as he thought of him. The anger in his eyes when he yanked his arm away was unbearable, even to Draco. To know that an innocent little boy could hate you so much was heart wrenching, but he couldn't think about it now. No, he had seen what was at first forbidden to him, and he had to figure out what the deal was through the clues he had been given.  
  
"But first I need to get out of here," Draco said to himself, trudging down the hallway towards the double doors of the dining room, his thick robe tail trailing behind him. He silently reached for the handle of the door and pulled it open almost lazily, so that it only had enough force to barely touch the stone wall. He paid no attention to it.  
  
Before him sat everybody, each one dressed in formal ware just as he, and each one gladly enjoying their evening meal. It seemed that he had been longer than he thought. At the head of the table sat Dumbledore, his once bright colored robes now a glistening white. On either side of him sat Potter and Weasley, both looking very different, very well-dressed, yet very stupid.  
  
Potter looked more or less like a prince, which probably suited him well since he was practically hailed as one by anyone who saw his stupid scar and heard his name. Weasley looked like the male models that the Muggles always watched, which made Draco sick at the thought that a pure-blood like him could ever sink so low.  
  
But in light of these normal reactions, Draco felt the smallest twang of guilt at being so hasty in judgment and attacking Potter and Weasley mentally without even giving them a chance; but is was a very, very, very small twang.  
  
Next to Potter sat Leo, his hands placed firmly on either side of his plate and his head bowed low over his food, as if he hadn't noticed Draco coming in; even though Draco was sure he was simply just avoiding his eyes. Across from Leo sat Crystal, her white gown making her wondering eyes look dreadfully familiar. He wished he wouldn't remember who those eyes reminded him of, but then the cold sting of the Dark Lord's face sprang up in his mind and he shivered slightly.  
  
And beside Crystal was Hermione, looking very different in her new wardrobe.making Draco stall just a little bit so he could get a good look at her. But then his attention was once again caught in the right place and he was back on track. But upon seeing Hermione, he found that he wanted something else from her. He so wanted to run to her right now, grab her by the arm and drag her outside and plead with her to help him; how many times had she aided Potter and he was always safe or in the clear?  
  
But he knew that if he so much as started towards her, Harry and Weasley would pounce on him in no time. But even after Hermione explained that he needed her help, they would want to come too, which would not fit with Draco's comfort.  
  
It wasn't as though he didn't want them to come, greatness knew that the extra help and company would have suited him well, even if it was his archenemies; but no, he had other reasons. If he were to break out in a whole story about Voldemort, what do you think would happen to Potter? Simply thinking of the Dark Lord sent chills through Draco's arm, triggering the Dark Mark the smallest bit. What if Voldemort suddenly contacted him while he was in Harry's presence?  
  
Potter would go into his fit mode over his scar and Draco would be useless as help to him. Not because the fact that he cared for Harry's welfare, he shuddered at the thought and mentally corrected himself by saying that if Potter did go into frenzy, he didn't want to be the one to haul him back into the tower. No, Draco would deal with this on his own, and then maybe later he would go to Granger for help; maybe.  
  
"Headmaster," Draco began in a voice that was deep and strained. "Professor Dumbledore, would it be alright with you if I skipped dinner and went outside for a while? I really need the fresh air."  
  
Dumbledore gave him a quizzical look. "Now why would you want to miss supper, Draco? I would have suspected that you required nourishment."  
  
"Things change," Draco mumbled in response. "I just wanted your permission on whether or not I could go outside for a bit."  
  
"Well, in that case, it isn't my decision," he answered back. "It is up to Leo and Crystal, seeing as this is their home. What do you two say? Is he permitted to go outside?" Draco noticed that Dumbledore looked stern about this subject, as though there was something wrong about leaving the tower.  
  
"No," Leo said, suddenly sounding worried and horrified. "He can't."  
  
"Why not?" Draco asked, a little forcefully. The urge for fresh air was almost unbearable.  
  
"Because." Leo faltered the tiniest bit. He looked at his sister, who, in turn, held his gaze firmly.  
  
"And you Crystal?" the Headmaster gazed at her, but Crystal was looking out the window now, behind Draco at the forest surrounding the tower. Her eyes were a little glazed and she seemed to be engrossed in an inner debate about her decision.  
  
"Only if he can brave it alone," Crystal finally replied. Potter, Weasley and Granger all glanced at her at this point, but Draco took only the notion that she was just trying to be creepy and tough again.  
  
"Crystal," Leo snapped quietly. "Are you mad? He can't go out there. No one can go out there, not even us," he hissed. Crystal looked out the window again, her face obviously rethinking her decision.  
  
"I'll survive," Draco told her, then without another word, turned on his heel and sprinted to the door on the floor below, slipped into the cool night air and disappeared into the forest.  
  
****  
  
"What was that all about?" Hermione asked, staring at the space where Malfoy had been standing moments before.  
  
"Haven't the slightest," Ron answered slowly, shaking his head. "Honestly, Malfoy's gone off his rocker even further this year."  
  
"No, that's not what I meant, Ron." Hermione turned to him and shook her head. "I was talking to Crystal."  
  
"About what?" Crystal interrogated, looking to Hermione. "What did I do?"  
  
"I think Miss Granger wants to know your reasons for the comment you gave Draco a few moments ago," Dumbledore told her, taking a deep swig from his goblet. Hermione couldn't help but see the smile curling at his lips and thereafter, from that moment on, concluded that Dumbledore did, in fact, know everything.  
  
"My comment?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione continued, shifting in her seat to face her. "You told him he could only go out if he could brave the forest alone. Is it dangerous out there? Because I've been staring out the windows all day, and I've never even gotten the notion that this place could be dangerous."  
  
"Then I have performed my spell successfully," Crystal answered calmly, shrugging.  
  
"Beg pardon?" Harry asked, setting down his fork. "What spell?" Crystal leaned back in her chair and looked at him.  
  
"It is one of the many talents I have acquired from expanding the Imperious Spell," she explained. Harry shuddered a bit at the announcement of an Unforgivable Curse. "It's a spell I placed on all of Enol. See, this place is a world of banishment; a world where all evicted souls are sent." She shot a quizzical glance at Leo, but went on. "But see, you can't exactly count someone as being banished if you send them to a place of paradise, right?  
  
"Well, in truth, Enol is a horrid regime, a burnt, barren land full of misery. Shadows, not night, consume this world without rest. Imagine life in a world like that, a life in which you live in fear of the land around you. It's a terrible fantasy, one that I could not stand living in.  
  
"So, when I was little, I empowered the Imperious Spell with enough potency in order for me to change everything. I commanded the world to adopt a mask, an illusion if you will, to hide the grotesque look of the place. It was to be an illusion so real, that one could touch everything in it and find that it was there. It's a powerful spell that requires much magic, seeing as I have cloaked this entire world."  
  
"So, all that," Harry started, waving towards the window and to the forest and the sky. "All of that is an illusion? A cloaking spell at work?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Right down to the cycle of day and night," Leo injected, twiddling his fingers together.  
  
"But how does that make sense?" Hermione asked. "Why would it be dangerous for Malfoy to be out there?"  
  
Leo answered before his sister could even open her mouth. "Because," he began, "something happens when you're outside for too long. The spell begins to wear down through your eyes, and you start to receive glimpses of Enol, on how it is supposed to look like. A sight like that could drive a human to madness."  
  
"And of course," Dumbledore said, setting down his goblet. "Draco knows nothing of this."  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at one another.  
  
"Should we worry?" Hermione asked.  
  
"No," Crystal replied, staring out the door. "He is of a family that can take care of themselves. We do not need to worry.yet."  
  
****  
  
Draco walked amongst the trees, not knowing where he was or where he was going. He only knew that this forest he was in, this forest that was unnaturally perfect, made him feel.wrong. He just simply felt wrong. But the fresh air that swept over his face and the dark sky that was tinted violet raised his spirits a considerable amount; and he slowed his walk in order to take in the feeling of immense freedom around him.  
  
This rare moment of solitude allowed him the chance to reflect on the sinking feeling in his stomach and the strange stirring of self-loathing in his heart. Draco lowered his eyes to the ground, scowling at the smooth surface of the grassy forest floor. A year ago, Draco Malfoy would rarely be found acting so pitiful and pathetic. He would usually brush past these lowering points in his life with a returning remark of insult, but how could one insult the past?  
  
"By screwing up the future," Draco muttered to himself, weaving through the trees and falling deeper into his worries.  
  
****  
  
Crystal glanced up at the blue globe that was embedded into the wall near the door. Green smoke was swirling inside, changing briefly to orange, and then back to green again. "Three hours," she said.  
  
"Huh?" answered Ron, looking up from his plate.  
  
"It's been three hours," Crystal repeated.  
  
"Three hours since what exactly?" Ron commented. Crystal stared at him.  
  
"Since that Malfoy boy ran out. I'm worried about him."  
  
Ron coughed on the pumpkin juice he had started to drink. "Worried, about Malfoy? That's rich! One thing you ought to know about Malfoy, no one does or needs to worry about him. Trust me; things are better off when he's gone."  
  
Leo turned his head to Ron. "So I have this strange feeling that you really don't like him."  
  
"No."  
  
"And you could care less if he went insane out there right now?" Leo didn't sound like he was accusing Ron or anything, just as though he really wanted to know the truth.  
  
Ron looked off into space for a moment, making it look as though he were deep in thought. When he came back, he looked Leo right in the eye and said, "You know, I searched and searched, and then I searched again, and I found that I really couldn't care less. Sorry, mate." He shrugged humorously at the kid. Leo only smiled in return and laughed a little.  
  
"You're funny Ronald Weasley," he commented.  
  
"That's what everyone keeps telling me," Ron replied.  
  
"Which is beside the point," Hermione interrupted. "I don't care how bad Malfoy is, can you imagine knowing someone could be going mad out there right now? It's not exactly something to help my conscience at the moment."  
  
"So, would you like to look for him?" Harry asked her, looking questionable. Hermione looked across the table at him.  
  
"I don't know.are you offering?" she asked back. Harry shrugged.  
  
"Bit of a blind spot right there for me," Harry answered. Ron injected his own opinion on the subject.  
  
"I vote we stay here and leave Malfoy. End of story." He stared at them proudly, only to be bombarded by hard stares from everyone. He stared back for a minute, then sighed reluctantly and dramatically and got up from his seat. "I mean, let's go then," he grumbled. Dumbledore simply smiled.  
  
****  
  
A/N: Okay, okay, so this chapter is just really, really boring! I'm sorry, but it is an important one where you learn a lot of information. Anyways, in the next chapter there is a little more action between Draco and Hermione, in which they both share a very, very disturbing event. Later on, Crystal returns to her insane self and toys around with Ron a bit. (Don't worry, no slashes involving the Oracles. Leo is too young and though Crystal is the same age as the others, she's still a little bit older than them and it would be just too weird!) H 


	8. Emoc lew ot Yrotgarup

Chapter Eight ~ Emoc lew ot Yrotgarup  
  
Lucius Malfoy stalked through the halls of his manor, his eyes darting from side to side, briefly gazing into the many rooms, making certain that everything was going just as planned. He dared not dream of what Voldemort would do if he knew that his plan was becoming near impossible.  
  
"Lucius," a voice called out from behind him. He stopped abruptly and spun around, only to be faced with that of the previous Ministry of Magic's Magical Creature Executioner, Macnair.  
  
"Yes?" Lucius asked, his voice like cold steel.  
  
"Lucius, I have the report from Avery's Mansion in Surrey," he told him, stopping just in front of him and handing over a small piece of parchment. "We have a problem."  
  
Lucius' eyes flashed momentarily with malice before he addressed the situation. "What sort of problem, Macnair?" he asked, his words stiff and angry. Macnair pointed to the parchment.  
  
"I just received it a few moments ago. His watches had resulted in failure. The woman he was assigned to keep an eye on, Arabella Figg was it? Well, she spotted one of them."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Yes. He said it was only a short glance, while she was outside of her home, tending her garden. He had spies located all around her house, him being one of them. They had Cloaking Charms on themselves, but when she looked up he could have sworn her eyes lingered on him much longer than usual. The very next day, she was gone. Her home has been abandoned and not a trace of her has been left. He suspects that she could have fled to Dumbledore." He waited.  
  
Lucius stared at the parchment, at Avery's words that Macnair had just spoken. His hand began to tremble out of rage and his face contorting in anger.  
  
"Do you think," Macnair began, treading slightly on his words. "Should we tell the Dark Lord about this?" Lucius looked up to him.  
  
"Did Avery have any notion that the woman is suspicious of something? Would she have any knowledge at all to what could be happening?" he asked. Macnair gave him a blank look.  
  
"Not of what he has implied, no. He didn't seem all that disappointed in her leaving. He even said that she doesn't even act like a witch. She barely does magic and is hardly aware of the world around her. She poses no threat."  
  
Lucius looked down at the parchment in his hands once more before returning his eyes to Macnair.  
  
"Then I see no reason to trouble our Master about anything," he replied, then spun on his heel and stalked off.  
  
****  
  
"So where do we start?" Harry asked, standing on the last step of the stone staircase that led out onto the small clearing around the tower, and onward into the surrounding forest. For light, he held up the small globe Leo had pulled out from his pocket when they were up in the bedroom. It just so happened to be a communicating device Crystal and him used. Duplications of the small sphere in his hand had been embedded into the walls all around the tower.  
  
All one simply had to do to request help was pressed down hard on it. He had given it to Harry to help them find Draco. Blue light swirled around inside of it, giving off a faint glow for them to see by. It had been attached to a gold chain, which he had noticed before, and it now hung about his very neck.  
  
Harry held it up by the chain, letting its surprisingly strong glow reach out, casting a fair area into light. He scanned the lit area with his eyes, searching for any motion or outline of Draco, but none came.  
  
"Er, Harry?" Hermione started, tapping his shoulder. Harry turned toward her.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"I think it would be much more useful and much more successful if you actually walked out there and searched for him rather than stand here all night," she told him, grinning a little. Harry looked out across the ground, a little strangely. Hermione examined his face and found that she couldn't read his expression. This was a bit odd for her, since it had always been easy for anyone to read Harry.  
  
When Harry was annoyed, he'd show it. When he was angry, his eyes narrowed disdainfully. When he became excited, you could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. That was probably why it was so easy for people to bully or for people to admire him. But now he stared at the expanding darkness with little more than a blank face, and Hermione didn't like it at all.  
  
"Harry," she began, but he ignored her.  
  
"Alright then, let's go," he said; and, with rather a bit more reluctance than he meant to, stepped onto the smooth, green grass. Hermione noticed him wince the tiniest bit, but it was there nonetheless.  
  
"Harry, are you alright?" she asked. Harry stared at the ground under his feet.  
  
"No," he said bluntly. Ron caught onto his unease.  
  
"Why?" he asked. Harry fiddled with the globe around his neck.  
  
"I don't know," Harry lied, and stepped down onto the soft grass. He was closely followed by Hermione and Ron.  
  
For awhile, they stepped slowly and quietly across the grounds, searching here and there in the strong light of the globe. They said nothing during this time, having all felt the twang of unease around them. But as they reached the edge of the forest, Harry dispersed himself from them and turned his head to speak to them.  
  
"As much as it is against my better judgment, I think we should split up," he said.  
  
"Harry, are you mad? I'm not going out there by myself! Didn't you hear what Crystal and Leo said?" Ron blurted out, casting a weary eye on the forest. It didn't help anyone that these trees reminded them of the Forbidden Forest back home.  
  
"Harry, are you sure about this?" Hermione asked as well, looking a bit worried, herself. "I mean, venturing out there on our own? What if we get lost? Then we could be out here for hours. Who knows what damage that much time could do." She looked regretfully at the forest. "I don't think that-,"  
  
"It'll be much faster that way," Harry interrupted her, stepping lightly past the trees. "And besides, if Malfoy can do it, then why can't we?"  
  
"He doesn't know, Harry," Ron pointed, agitation rising in his voice. "He could be going mad right now and wouldn't have the slightest idea that it could be because of the forest. Mind you, if I were him, I'd think it was just a regular routine that I had to go through."  
  
Harry cast them both a glance of waiting. "Listen you two, this is nothing compared to the challenges we usually face. It's just a forest. Just try to forget everything the Oracles said and hold on to your sanity." He stared at them for a little while after this; and before Ron or Hermione could protest some more, he had bounded into the trees, taking the globe with him.  
  
"Great!" Ron sighed, staring after him. "He took our only source of light." Suddenly a small spark of yellow light danced next to Ron's face, making him squint in reaction. "What is that?" he cried.  
  
"Oh honestly, Ron," Hermione said. He looked at her and saw the faint glow of light at the end of her wand. "Sometimes, I'm not sure which one of us was Muggle-born." And with that, she entered the forest, going a different way then Harry; leaving Ron to grumble for a few moments before lighting his own wand and going in the opposite direction.  
  
****  
  
"Minerva!" Arabella cried, running down the street to her. Professor McGonagall stopped what she was doing and turned to see the familiar witch come rushing to her. They were pretty much the same age, and it almost made Minerva smile at the fact that this elderly woman could run as fast as she was at the moment. But then the shadow of the smile faded as she reached level with her.  
  
Her eyes stood out in worry on her pale face, flushed red by her running and the cold wind swirling around them. She, herself, had on a warm, green cloak. But Arabella had none; and Minerva could only imagine how the fierce cold of the winter season was biting into her frail body. The bun on her head was in disarray, and it looked as though she had left her home in a hurry.  
  
"What is it Arabella?" she asked, her heavy Irish accent bounding through the air.  
  
"Oh Minerva, where is Albus Dumbledore? It's urgent!" she exclaimed, her hands shaking. "I need to speak to him at once!" She gazed around the place in where they were.  
  
She had stopped the professor in the middle of the street in Hogsmeade, the tiny little village bringing up memories of the past. There was Zonko's Joke Shop, and Honeydukes was that extremely colorful shop over there; and right before her stood The Three Broomsticks, in which the professor had been walking towards.  
  
"I'm sorry Arabella," Professor McGonagall said to her, "but the Headmaster is not here at the moment. He's on a very important.er- business trip involving the recent events and he won't be back until the end of the week." She looked sadly at the other woman's face. "Why do you need to speak to him, dear? What is the matter?"  
  
Arabella sighed. "Oh, it is such a long story Minerva; I hardly know where to begin! I just came here as soon as possible, to tell Albus. But in his absence, I think it would be you who would know what to do, I know no one else who could be half the witch you are."  
  
Minerva smiled at her. "Come on Arabella, let us sit down and speak of this over something warm to drink. Winters have been coming fast here, and look! Snow is beginning to fall. You can tell me everything inside." She ushered a rather frantic looking Mrs. Figg inside the pub and closed the door to the falling snow behind her.  
  
****  
  
"Malfoy?" Hermione called, stepping around trees and going deeper and deeper into the forest. It was almost hard for her not to fear her surroundings, for everything about her was beautiful.  
  
The sky high trees stood tall in a perfect pattern, and the soft, velvet grass under her feet had neither a flaw nor a blemish on its emerald green face. Neither bush nor rock was out of place, and the small pinpricks of stars overhead shone brightly through each delicately placed leaf. Hermione walked with her head tilted back, looking graciously at the stars and the subtle moon, not worrying where she was stepping, for it was impossible to trip on anything in this forest.  
  
When she did look down, Hermione felt a slight tinge of fear in the back of her mind, as she stared at the darkness encasing her small sphere of light. She half thought of performing the Four Point spell to try and locate Harry or Ron, but she swiftly pushed that thought back from her mind. She'd rather be lost forever in this forest for all eternity before she let them know she was afraid. Okay, maybe not for eternity, but she wasn't about to go run to them for help.  
  
That was probably what made Hermione different from the rest of the girls at school: she was seamlessly independent. There were rare times when she let people see her as vulnerable. She had always been 'on her own' in a way, helping people constantly but rarely asking for help in return.  
  
This attitude had been apparent to everyone since first year, when she locked herself in the girl's bathroom after Ron had insulted her. She did not go to a teacher for help, nor did she ask for the comforting aid of the girls from her dorm room. She had taken it upon herself to simply do her crying in a lone stall and then get on with life.  
  
But since Harry and Ron had become her friends, Hermione had found that it was okay to ask for help, and that it did not show that one was weak or helpless. Having learned this, she had become much more relaxed about her independent stature without abandoning it fully. She discovered how to ask for one's help, though she did not abuse this ability and it was only on special occasion did she go to anyone for it.  
  
Now, though, was not a time for help. So Hermione swallowed down her fear and pressed farther into the forest, hoping that that darn Malfoy hadn't gone too far into the darkness.  
  
****  
  
"MALFOY?!" Ron bellowed, walking cautiously through the trees. "Malfoy, where in blazes are you?" He searched about him frantically, unable to get the tinkling feeling of dread rising up his neck to disperse. How long had he been out here? How long did it take before the illusion of Enol began to fade and the real thing would come into view?  
  
And what was Harry thinking, wanting to split up; and in all events at a time and place like this? Where was Harry for that matter, or Hermione? And what if one of them had already found Malfoy, or he did; how would the others know?  
  
With these questions to only boost his fear up a notch, Ron had a sudden thought to simply abandon this mission and bolt back to the tower, leaving the search of that idiot Malfoy to Harry and Hermione. But as soon as the thought completed itself, Ron shoved it out of his mind and walked on. What kind of person would that make him, leaving his best friends behind? Besides, deserting the ones whom you cared about wasn't exactly in Ron's resume. He was faithful to them both. Harry and Hermione, though sometimes it really didn't show.  
  
He did bicker quite a lot with Hermione, and then there was that awful period last year when he had accused Harry of something he hadn't done and then completely left him in the cold; but putting that aside, Ron had always been there to help both of them when the need was the greatest.  
  
In fact, he had been extremely faithful to everyone he knew and loved. He had sacrificed himself in first year to the giant chess board in order to let Harry and Hermione move on to the Sorcerer's Stone, had gone down into the Chamber of Secrets to help as best he could to save his sister, and had even strapped himself to Peter Pettigrew in third year because he felt guilty for housing a murderer for so many years.  
  
Not to mention that he had braved the Forbidden Forest twice, having met an elephant-sized spider during one occasion, had been dragged through a dirt tunnel and have his leg broken by a huge dog that, at the time, scared him senseless, had let himself be kidnapped by merpeople for Harry's second task, driven a flying car into the one tree at Hogwarts that fought back, and had done the ultimate sacrifice for Harry when he was especially in a bad mood: got along with Hermione when he was really, really, angry with her.  
  
No, Ron would not leave his best friends out here like that, for who knew what would go on if he wasn't there. If Harry found Malfoy first, there might be a huge brawl and Malfoy would be creamed; and if Hermione found Malfoy first, there still might be a huge brawl and not only would Malfoy still be creamed, he would have died of boredom afterward because it was most likely Hermione would scold him for running off like he did.  
  
So, with the thought his friends out there all by themselves on his mind, Ron proceeded to twist through the trees, though still unable to keep the slight quiver of his wand calm.  
  
****  
  
Harry bounded through the trees, not even having to push away stray tree branches for there were none. The small globe he had been holding now hung silently from his neck, making the small blue light from it sway as he moved. He was well aware that Ron and Hermione had watched him leave, both very surprised and very confused; and he couldn't help but feel bad about leaving them behind, but he needed to be alone to think about some things.  
  
All during dinner, the Oracles had been emphasizing more about their powers, telling them random facts about how they worked. It was interesting and everything, and Harry had been an apt listener until Leo brought up something about his own power.  
  
"I know everything there is to know about the past, everything! In fact, if you asked me to show you anything, I could!" He had said. Harry remembered faintly that Ron had risen to this greatly and had quizzed Leo on what he had for breakfast a few weeks ago, but Harry hardly heard both that and the laughter that followed.  
  
After hearing Leo say what he did, Harry had a tight clenching in his stomach. He could see anything? Anything in the past, in anyone's past, regardless if they remembered it or not? If so, well then, what did that tell Harry? The pounding in his heart, the tension in his shoulders, and the rapidness of his breath weren't from the fact that it had been warm in the room.  
  
If Leo could show anyone the past, could he show Harry the one thing that he had been wanting and the one thing he could never have: his parents?  
  
****  
  
"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, where are you? Can you hear me?" she called, her voice ringing in his ears. He could hear, how could he not? The silence in the forest was absolute next to her full voice. But dare he call back to her? Not a chance. If she was looking for him then he wouldn't be the one to make it any easier for her. And why was it he only heard the Mudblood's-.Granger's voice and not Potter or Weasley's? Did they simply leave her to do the work; certainly it wouldn't be the first. But no, the Golden Trio never abandoned each other, not unless they had a really big, really stupid fight.  
  
Draco ignored Hermione's calls and looked back to the sky in which he had been staring at for who knew how long. After walking aimlessly through the forest, he had found this clearing, where the trees made a perfect circle around the flawless forest floor and the branches were spread far apart so as to give a clear view of the start-studded sky. Mesmerized by the look of it, Draco had stopped in its center and had been standing there for the last hour or so. Not once did he look down, until he heard the voice calling out his name.  
  
But now he had returned his vision to look at the stars and the moon, noticing before he lifted his eyes that someone had finally found him and was watching from the trees.  
  
****  
  
She saw Draco before she saw the clearing, without the use of her wand light. The first thing she saw was a small speck of white through the trees, with no significant form or shape. As she drew nearer, and called his name, she had confirmed it was him. She ceased her callings immediately and simply confirmed to sneaking through the rest of forest and watching him from behind a tree.  
  
He looked like an angel; that was the first thought that came to her mind, and it wasn't as far-fetched as one would think. He stood out against the blackness of the night, his white-blonde hair making a halo around his head, and his white clothes making it seem as though he glowed with radiance. He stood proud, with his hands hanging, though filled with energy, at his sides and his shoulders broad and powerful.  
  
Though he faced her, he did not see her, for his head was turned to the side and was tilted up, so he was looking at the stars. And his face, a face in which she had only seen anger and hatred, mocking and cruelty, now looked blank and full of wonder, causing him to look much younger in appearance.  
  
Seeing him in this way almost made Hermione want to greet him like an old friend, to walk out and act worried about why he ran out and if he was okay. She wanted to grab his hand and drag him back to the castle, scolding him for not answering her calls and smiling at the fact that he wasn't going crazy. She wanted to throw her arms around them, like she would with Harry or Ron, and not, in a dignified manner, tell him how glad she was that he wasn't hurt and how happy she was that she found him in time. She wanted to.but only almost.  
  
****  
  
"Crystal, Leo, seeing as this will probably be the only time I'll to talk to you two alone, I suspect that now is where I come clean," Dumbledore said, leaning back against his chair. The plates had long since been cleared from the table, and Harry, Ron and Hermione had been gone for a fair time now as well. Only the Headmaster, Crystal, and Leo, (who was now nibbling on some cheese), sat around the dining table.  
  
"Come clean?" Leo asked, confused. "About what, Professor?" His eyes, so much lighter compared to his sister's, looked at him brightly. Crystal neither moved nor said anything, simply waited. The Headmaster held Leo's gaze.  
  
"What I am about to tell you is known fact, something I am certain of, so there is no need for confirmation on it through either of your Sight," he began. "And I wouldn't have expected either of you to know, what with the time change between your world and ours; and I do not blame Crystal for any of it, for as we know, her subconscious state at the moment is the one laying forth the paths for the mortals."  
  
"Dumbledore," Crystal said, sounding worried. "What are you trying to say?"  
  
The old man was silent for awhile. When he spoke, his words were hard blows of ice to both their chests. "Jakob," he said in a low, emotionless tone, "is dead."  
  
Then the bang that came from the globe that had been embedded into the wall sprayed the entire room with glass shards and smoke.  
  
****  
  
He could feel her eyes on him, knew that she was there, even without looking at her. So he kept his eyes on the sky when he said her name.  
  
"Granger," he muttered, only loud enough for her to faintly hear it. She noted that she jerked slightly at the sound of her name, and then he heard her as she began to walk towards him, her footsteps muffled on the grass and the skirt of her dress grazing the blades. Still, he did not look down. His body was facing her, but his head was turned to the side, looking up, giving her a perfect view of his flawless profile.  
  
"Malfoy," she began, and he had the feeling that her arms were crossed over her chest as though she were agitated. "Malfoy, if you knew I was there, why didn't you answer me before?" She waited for his reply. He gave her none. "Malfoy-,"  
  
"Does he see what I see?" Draco suddenly asked, as if directing his question to the innocent moon. His voice was strained, unwillingly revealing a tethered anger that he held towards whoever this 'he' was.  
  
"Pardon?" Hermione asked, not quite sure that she knew what he was talking about.  
  
"Can he see what I see? Has-.has he any idea of what I can see?" Draco continued, his fist clenching at his sides. "Can you see it?" he suddenly snapped, his eyes burning into the stars themselves. "Can you see it?"  
  
"See what?" Hermione asked a little softly, thinking it best to tread lightly on this subject. Though Malfoy had indeed changed over the summer, he had not lost the air of menace and intimidation around him. She was almost to him now, but slowed her walk deliberately to no more than small, slow steps; so as to allow the space between them to linger. "What is it that you see?" she asked.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes to the heavens now, a look that seemed at home on his face. She watched as he slightly drew back the sides of his overcoat and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. Besides that, no other part of his body moved. "What I see," he started, his usual drawl almost vanishing into thin air, "is something you will never, ever, understand."  
  
Hermione looked stricken. Not because of what he had said to her, and yet, it was because of what he said to her. Who was this boy standing in the clearing with her? Surely it was not Draco Malfoy, he did not seem the type to sound so lost and confused, nor so calm and collected. She was used to his snide remarks, his signature scowls, and his flying insults. Even the way he had been acting over the days did nothing in comparison to the foreign feeling pulsing off of him right now: isolation.  
  
She was next to him, not knowing why she dared get this close to him. He was Slytherin. She was Gryffindor; and being that they were enemies, (though that status was in deep question at the moment), she should have been slapping him in the face at this close range, but she made no move to do so. Nor did he, for that matter; just kept staring off into space.  
  
"Malfoy," Hermione began, thinking of the words that she wanted to say. Her first instinct was to let her curiosity get to her, and ask Draco what he meant. But, then again, curiosity did kill the cat, and certainly Hermione had been going through enough lately. "Malfoy, Dumbledore and Crystal and Leo have all been worried sick over you being out here," she told him, her words tumbling out of her weary lips. "You've been gone three hours, maybe more, and that's dangerous. You probably don't know how dangerous but-,"  
  
"Dangerous," Draco echoed, sounding very, very far away. "How do you know that it is not you who is in danger?"  
  
"What?" Hermione took an involuntary step back. "Malfoy, come on. We shouldn't be out here. There's something wrong with this place, Crystal and Leo told us. Why else would Harry, Ron and I want to come and get you in the first place? Now, come on!" She turned to go when his next words stopped her.  
  
"You think I haven't seen what's wrong with this place?" he asked. "Only four hours have I been out here, and already I know more than you could ever imagine." His tone was cold, colder than he had ever used before. Hermione turned around.  
  
"What do you mean? Can you-.but how could you? Malfoy, how do you know? How do you know that this is all an illusion? Did anyone tell you?"  
  
"Not everyone has to be told everything," Draco replied, finally look down from the sky. His eyes went directly to her, looking no where but in her eyes. They were frozen steel, the gray in his look almost turning black against his pale skin and clothes. Something about this made Hermione uneasy, not including the fact that it was probably just because he was looking at her. But in the way that he did it, it didn't seem right.  
  
"Malfoy, explain yourself right now," she told him. He continued to speak to her then, and Hermione noticed that he looked no where else but in her face, as if frightened of averting his gaze anywhere else.  
  
"Don't you think that I, of all people, would know when something was wrong? Take a good look around here, Hermione, and tell me that you don't see it! When you were looking for me, did you notice anything odd? Like how the trees are perfectly spaced and how they never get in your way? How the ground is so even and soft? How, though it is night, and though the wind blows." Hermione felt the breeze as it passed through the trees and over her, ".that it is never cold; nor do they rustle any of the leaves they past? Just look at yourself! From the garments you're wearing, walking around without a cloak, you should be freezing; but you're not. I'm not. Strange, wouldn't you say? It kind of gets the mind working on how could anywhere be that perfect."  
  
Hermione had heard everything he said, noticed everything he mentioned, but somehow, she had not really paid attention to what he was saying. She was watching they way he was standing, the way his fists were clenching at his sides. The way his arms were very stiff and how he had not moved any other muscle in his body besides his head. His breathing was very deep and quiet; and he drew breath with slow precision, almost making himself look like he ceased to breathe at all.  
  
"Granger," he began in a small and commanding voice, "how long have you been out here?"  
  
His question startled her. "Er.maybe an hour? I'm not sure, I don't have my watch on right now." Her unease grew.  
  
Draco's face did not change from its blank expression, only his eyes moved away from her face and scanned the expanse around them. "Come here, to me; and walk very slowly," he told her. Hermione hesitated.  
  
"Malfoy, I-," she stuttered, staring at him. Sure, back home she had agreed to help him with whatever was making him act strange, and yes, there was an inkling of trust growing inside her for him, but she was completely clueless. She looked around herself as well, wondering what was making Draco act ever stranger than he was lately.  
  
"Just do it," he commanded, one emotion flew at her from him that she recognized. Fear. Nodding in response, Hermione began to walk toward him, taking measured, unwavering steps towards him. He watched her, intent on his face and his hands shaking at his sides. When she was right in front of him, so that there was but a foot left to separate them, did she speak.  
  
"Okay Malfoy, what do you want?" she asked. He was silent for a moment, looking past her to the clearing surrounding them. Nothing moved.  
  
Then, with no such warning, his hands shot out to her and he grabbed her in his arms to press her against his body. He spun her so that her back was against his chest and so that she was facing outward, toward the clearing. She was too surprised to say anything, only a fearful gasp could escape her mouth.  
  
"Do not scream," Draco said to her, leaning down and speaking into her ear. He was holding her firmly by her upper arms and her skirt was spread out around them, probably landing there from being spun around. "Do not scream and do not say anything. Watch the clearing and don't look away. When it happens, I want you not to scream, got that? Do. Not. Scream." He waited for her reply, watching the area around them from behind her shoulder. "Understand?" he asked her. She only nodded. "Good," he replied, and then he was quiet.  
  
"What will-," Hermione began to ask, but he silenced her.  
  
"No, don't speak. It will happen to you soon, and when it does you have to swear that you will not say a thing. You can't say anything; you can't scream, you can't shout, nothing. Promise me that, Hermione. Swear by it."  
  
"But why?" Hermione whispered, feeling the tickle of his breath against her neck. "What will happen?"  
  
"Swear by it," Draco said firmly, his voice a whisper. "Swear by it." His grip tightened just a little on her arms.  
  
"I swear," she said, though she hadn't the faintest idea what she had sworn to.  
  
****  
  
The minutes ticked by, stretching out time to its farthest reaches, and still nothing happened. Hermione stood frozen in her place, her back leaning against the soft material of Draco's clothing. He still held her arms tightly, yet gently enough so as not to hurt her. He hadn't said a word for quite some time. And more importantly, she had stayed faithful to her quietness as well; her only sound coming from her breathing. But it had been much longer than she felt comfortable to count, so she opened her mouth to speak.  
  
"Malfoy?" she tried.  
  
"What," he answered, whispering like her.  
  
"Nothing's happening," Hermione told him, slightly turning her head to look up at him. "Nothing."  
  
"Quiet!" he snapped. She held her tongue fast. "It will happen, Granger; and when it does-,"  
  
"I know, I know, don't scream. But what's supposed to happen?"  
Draco's eyes darted around him, watching. "That's right, don't scream. Mind you, I'd be pretty well impressed if you didn't." He winced a little from his left, as if someone had hurt him there, but of course, there was nothing. Hermione looked at him puzzled, wondering what that was for.  
  
"What are you on about now?" she asked him, a bit worried. But Draco's eyes widened as he looked to the moon. He looked back down to her, his gray eyes looking faintly blue in the starlight. She looked back into them, scared.  
  
"Look into the clearing," he told her, with almost a quiver in his voice. "Look straight ahead, no where else, and don't close your eyes.and do not scream." His words bit into her skin.  
  
Very cautiously and very slowly, Hermione tore her eyes away from his face, closed them as she turned her head, and fixed them hurriedly in front of herself. Fear mounted high in her heart as she did so, though the jolt of surprise mixed with horror and shock knocked the strength out from her legs; luckily, Draco was there to hold her upright, for what she saw before her was terrible beyond her wildest dreams, and it took every amount of willpower and discipline in her to not gasp, let alone scream.  
  
Before her was a landscape the complete opposite of what had been there before. There were no trees, no green grass, and no glorious night sky dotted with tiny stars. Instead, there were shadows covering the night sky, very different from a secure night. The stars had gone and the moon no longer looked serene and grand, but troubled and haunting.  
  
The trees had disappeared, only to be replaced by twisted, distorted branches protruding from the ground, which, itself, was blackened and burned. Torn rock formations littered the landscape, and scratches that looked like fingernail marks were etched into many of them. Nearby, Hermione saw a small stream weaving in and out of the 'trees' and rocks, but it wasn't a peaceful stream. Though the water in it looked normal, it did not give the impression of being normal at all.  
  
Without knowing how she knew, Hermione felt herself cringe at the fact that the horrid stream flowed with human tears, tears shed over thousands and thousands of years; and though all this made the knot in her stomach twist with dread, it was nothing compared to what her eyes had locked onto when she first opened them.  
  
Before her stood hundreds of shadows, shadows that made her skin crawl with terror. Each one looked to be the silhouette of a human, faceless darkness surrounding both her and Draco. Some sat around the rocks and trees, their heads lolling to one side and their bodies looking tired and worn. But many were standing, and they had made a decent circle around them. They did not stand erect, but looked as though their bodies weighed more than they could handle, as some were weighing down towards the ground.  
  
And then to add to this sight, Hermione saw why Draco had winced away from his side before. The closest shadow was only a few feet from them, leaning in closer and closer with every second. But the horror of it came from its blank face, where tears of blood were running from invisible eyes. The blood trailed all down its body, falling onto the ground and staining it a bright ruby red.  
  
She couldn't move. She couldn't move even if she had the feeling in her legs. Fear was beyond describing what Hermione felt, and she didn't know how she was staying rather calm when all she wanted to do was throw up.  
  
So this was why Draco looked so rigid when he was standing in the clearing, why he had been intent on looking at the sky and no where else. This was why he had kept his eyes glued to her face, why he moved no other part of his body when he spoke, why his face looked paler than usual and why his hands had been clenching at his sides. It was all because of this.  
  
"D-Draco.Draco." Hermione gasped; she was breathing rather fast. "Draco...I can't-I can't look at this."  
  
"No," Draco answered, shaking her so that she wouldn't close her eyes. "You have to watch this."  
  
"I can't!" Hermione almost cried, the panic and hysteria mixing in with her fear.  
  
"You have to!" Draco said, raising his voice. "Now listen to me, Hermione. Do you see that over there in the distance? Can you see it? It's the tower." Hermione wrenched her eyes away from the shadows and farther into the distance, where a darker shape rose up to the sky.  
  
"Y-yes, yes, I see it."  
  
Draco nodded. "Good. Now, listen to this carefully. You've only been out here for an hour, so the cloaking spell is only beginning to wear off. The illusion will return to you in a minute." And with his words, the shadows, the torn rock formations and the looming sky began to slowly dissolve. "When it does, I want you to remember where you saw the tower, because you won't be able to see it with the trees in the way. I need you to guide me back to the tower, Hermione, got it? You have to guide me."  
  
As Hermione nodded in reply the illusion came back completely. Everything disappeared, only to be replaced by the welcoming trees, the downy grass, and the clear sky. There was no trace whatsoever of anything horrid.  
  
Hermione's breath was still coming fast, and as she began to readjust to her surroundings, she found that Draco's hands had moved and now his arms were wrapped around her in a protective manner. Getting a little bit of her feeling back, she would have snapped at him for holding her like that, if she hadn't found that she was the one holding his arms that way.  
  
"Is it gone?" Draco asked, his eyes still darting around the clearing.  
  
"Yeah, I can't see it anymore." But Hermione was only half paying attention to what she was saying. She was focusing on the fact that Draco hadn't removed his firm grip on her arms. "Malfoy, can you still see it?"  
  
He hesitated. "Yes," he replied. He slowly let go of her arms.  
  
"Are you sure? I mean, do you still need me to guide you?" Hermione asked. Draco looked down to her then, his eyes bright with anger and urgency.  
  
"Do you trust me enough to believe me?" he shot at her, taking hold of her hand. Hermione stared back.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then shut the bloody hell up at run, Hermione," he said. She didn't need to be told twice. Within seconds, Hermione was bounding back through the forest, darting around trees, her skirt flying up around her, Draco's cold hand in hers.  
  
****  
  
"Do you think she found him?" Ron asked, sitting against the stair rail.  
  
"Well, hopefully she did," Harry answered, leaning beside him. The two had long since given up on finding Malfoy, thinking that Hermione had gone the right way, and had returned to the tower entrance.  
  
Now they were waiting outside for any sign of either of them, Ron having doused his wand light and letting the only light come from the globe, even though it only illuminated a small sphere incasing the two boys. "Do you feel a little guilty about leaving her out there alone?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron twiddled his wand through his fingers. "Very, but come on, Harry. I mean what could we have done? It's not like we could have found her and helped her. You know how Hermione is, she's stubborn like that."  
  
"You're right," Harry replied, though that wasn't why he was feeling guilty. "I'm sorry I just left you two like I did. I wasn't thinking straight."  
  
The red-haired boy shook his head. "Think nothing of it, mate," he answered. After this there was a brief interval of silence where both boys wondered how much longer Hermione would take. Then that delicate silence was broken by a growing thunder coming through the forest. Immediately, Harry and Ron jumped to their feet, Harry fumbling with the globe to raise its light. When he had, he saw two figures coming towards them from the forest, one slightly smaller than the other.  
  
"Oi there! Look Harry, here come Hermione and Malfoy," Ron said, stating the obvious; but, then again, that's was he did. It was Hermione and Malfoy, except it wasn't the entrance either of them had anticipated.  
  
Hermione was running towards them, looking tired and certainly worn. In one hand she held her wand, its light bouncing up and down and casting shadows. In the other she held Malfoy's own hand, gripping his tightly and looking as if she'd never let go. At first this sight caught both boys in a shock, but then Harry pointed out the reason for their behavior. Draco, his formal jacket almost falling off and his sleek hair in disarray, was running blind; his grey eyes were shut close.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione called out, her voice desperate. "Ron!"  
  
"Hermione," Harry called back, taking a step down the stairs toward her. "What's going on?"  
  
"Open the door!" she cried, and when she hit the foot of the stairs he could see that tears were glistening in her eyes. "Open it now," she practically pleaded, climbing the steps and pulling Draco behind her. Frantically, Harry spun around and he and Ron pulled back the wooden doors.  
  
They stood to the side to let them through, both Hermione and Draco simple white blurs dashing by. Then they followed behind them, looking at each other in worried puzzlement and closing the doors behind them.  
  
"Hermione," Ron started, turning around. "What was that? What's the deal with-." But he stopped short after what sounded like a dull thud and his gaze fell upon them. He slowly tapped Harry on the shoulder, for he was still facing the door and hadn't turned around. Curious, Harry turned his back against the door to see what Ron had; and right away he regretted it.  
  
Apparently the thud had been Draco slamming his fist into the stone. He was near the far wall, his arm on the wall and his head leaning against it. He looked different this way, adopting a manner that Harry had never really seen on him: defeat. His other arm hung dead at his side, though his hand was clenched in a tight, angry fist. But as disturbing as this was, it was nothing compared to the heart-wrenching sight that was their best friend.  
  
Hermione had fallen to her knees on the floor upon entering, her shoulders shaking and her white skirt flowered about her. Her back was toward them, but they could tell that she had one arm wrapped around her stomach and the other pressing against the stone floor, holding her up. She was very quiet. Harry and Ron couldn't bring themselves to move either of them; so they stood there as the minutes dragged by, neither of them realizing the silent tears streaming down Hermione's face.  
  
****  
  
"Leo!" Crystal cried, raising her hand to shield herself from the flying glass shards. The ones that had been aiming towards her head froze in mid-air. Only paying half attention to what she was doing, Crystal waved her hand and the glass shards and swirling smoke flew back together to recreate the glass globe, which was now hovering, completed, above Crystal's open palm. The rest of her attention was directed towards her little brother, who was looking shameful.  
  
"Sorry Crysi, I wasn't thinking-," Leo stammered, looking embarrassed. Crystal was indignant.  
  
"Leo, that was careless of you. You know better! I am aware that the Professor's news is shocking, but you can't lose control of your powers like that; you aren't just a wizard Leo, you're an Oracle." She began to stand up from the table, the hovering globe following in her hand. She looked at Leo, who was flabbergasted.  
  
"Well! Pardon me, Crystal, but I wasn't aware that you were so perfect," he shot back, his cheeks flushing. "Don't you start telling me about controlling my magic, because you'd be a great one to talk! How many times did I find you, completely mental, in the dungeons! You sat there, day after day, throwing your power here and there and everywhere, not caring who you hurt or who saw you! Just because I unhitched it just the tiniest bit you think you can scold me?"  
  
"Leo, you know I didn't mean it like that. It's just.oh, never you mind. You are right, I haven't the right. It's just; you could have cut me with that!" She grinned a little as she walked to the door and slowly pressed the globe back into the wall.  
  
It resisted a little, then settled into place, showing no change at all. At this, Leo shrugged a little, his anger subsiding and his mouth curling in a brief smile. But then his interest was caught once again by the matter at hand. He turned back to Dumbledore, his face making him look, for the first time in months, as though he were ten.  
  
"Headmaster, is it.how could it be? I knew he was old but, but he was granted half of immortality! He shouldn't have been close to death now. How in anything did he die? Why?" He spoke in almost a whisper, his voice cracking. "Is his soul." He couldn't bring himself to go on.  
  
Dumbledore looked at the small boy, his face stern. When he opened his mouth to answer, he was very serious indeed. "Leo, Crystal, first of all I want you two to know that you have my deepest apologies about this. No one but I has a greater sorrow in Jakob's death." Crystal came close to saying he was the only one who truly knew the degree of Jakob's death, but she shut her lips tight. "And I also want to add that I blame myself for not preventing it."  
  
"No, Professor!" Leo protested, looking flabbergasted. "It wasn't your fault at all."  
  
"Leo," Crystal interrupted, holding up a hand to silence him, "quiet." He closed his mouth. Dumbledore looked at them for awhile before he felt comfortable to continue.  
  
"He died not but a few days ago in our world. I believe, Crystal, Leo.that he was murdered."  
  
Neither of them said a thing, so he proceeded.  
  
"It was not in his destiny to be murdered, and once again I must impress upon both of you that, though you both control the fate of every person alive, there will be times where their ultimate decision in life will be against your judgment. You laid the path of peace down for Jakob, yet he was chosen to die at the hand of the Dark Lord."  
  
"The Dark Lord?" Leo suddenly piped in, looking stricken. "He.murdered Jakob? It was him?" He sounded dead, blank, nothing was in his voice but an unbelievable air. "You mean the boy who was once called Tom Riddle?"  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore replied.  
  
"The balance," Crystal responded. And if one were not Crystal, Leo or Dumbledore, then one would not understand the strength of what she had said. "Of course it would be him. Naturally, it comes by no surprise."  
  
"But why was he murdered? He was in no association with the Dark Lord," Leo attempted. "What were the motives?" His tone began to rise, the solid anger of revenge stinging his words.  
  
"The motives," the Headmaster stated, leaning back, "were by means of gathering information."  
  
"What kind of information?" Crystal asked, hoping against hope that what she was dreading would not be said. But it was.  
  
"Information regarding you two; the Oracles of Prodigy."  
  
There was the sound of glass protesting, and if anyone would bother to look at the globe in the wall they would notice a deep, threatening crack threading down its middle; and it didn't stop there. The crack continued past the globe to the wall, traveling down it and going on to blemish the floor. It ended at Crystal's feet. Leo turned to her, indignant.  
  
"What a way to control your magic, Crysi," he said to her, his sarcasm hard to miss. She looked at him, the slightest bit of shame, but then a bright blue light flooding in from behind her made them all turn to look at what it was. The now severed globe in the wall was blazing with light, the smoke inside swirling madly in their enclosed glass.  
  
****  
  
"Hermione," Harry tried, walking with Ron to her doubled up body on the floor. "Hermione, are you okay?" He knelt down beside her, his hand resting gently on her shivering shoulder. There was a pregnant pause before she answered.  
  
"No, Harry," she replied, her usually poised voice shaking madly, along with the rest of her body. "I'm far from it." Her tears kept on falling.  
  
Worried, Harry quickly grasped the globe hanging about his neck, pulled it off, and threw it to Ron, standing up. Ron caught it out of the air easily.  
  
"Call them," Harry said, walking over to Malfoy. "Get all three of them here, now." He unfastened his cape and threw it over Hermione's shoulders who, in turn, clutched it to her body.  
  
"Right," he replied, tightening his grip on the globe until it blazed with bright blue light. After he had done this, he bent down beside Hermione and tried to get her to stand up as Harry went to check on Draco.  
  
"Malfoy," he tried, walking slowly toward him. Draco didn't move. "Malfoy, are you all right?" Still no answer.  
  
"Harry," Hermione whispered behind him. Harry turned around to see her hanging onto Ron in attempts to stand. "Don't. Just, just let him be. Trust me, he needs it." She looked as though she were in shock, her eyes round and unseeing and her face paler than the moon.  
  
"Alright then," he replied, casting a glance to Draco. "If you're sure."  
  
"Hermione," Ron started, holding her around the middle, helping her stand. "What happened out there? What happened to the both of you?"  
  
Hermione shook her head in response, her brown hair falling over her eyes, shading them from view. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. And even if I did, you wouldn't want to know." The grip she had on Ron's arm tightened, and he looked up to Harry, sharing his expression of fear.  
  
"Did the cloaking spell.did it fail?" Harry asked. Hermione didn't reply. She only shut her eyes closed and leaned her head against Ron's shoulder, her hair creating a brown shroud over her face. Ron looked down at her in worry, patting her arm and trying to comfort her. Little did he know that no amount of comfort could erase what Hermione and Draco had seen.  
  
Seconds ticked by like hours and silence was the only thing heard. Harry had moved over the Hermione and Ron, and both boys were watching with deep concern, exchanging worried glances every so often. They did not notice the mute form of Draco, his gray eyes hidden against the stone, as his body slid down the wall and hit the floor quietly. He sat there, head still leaning against the foundation, hands trembling and heart racing. His eyes were open, staring hard at the stone flooring and focusing on what it looked like so he wouldn't have to remember what he had just run from.  
  
But then the stillness was interrupted as footsteps could be heard bounding down the staircase. Harry and Ron looked up only to see Crystal, Leo, and Dumbledore coming down the stairs and towards them all in the entry way. They slowed down the slightest bit, taking in the apprehensive faces of Harry and Ron, and the still, gaunt forms of Draco and Hermione.  
  
"What's going on?" Leo asked, walking past his sister towards them. "What happened?"  
  
Before Ron or Harry could utter a word, Hermione's head had snapped up and was staring at Crystal in an insane, hungry way.  
  
"You lied to us," she said, her voice low and troubled. "You lied to us again."  
  
"Hermione," Ron began, letting go of her as she began to stand on her own. "Calm down a bit, would you?" But she ignored him.  
  
"Hermione I-," Crystal started, but the other girl cut her off.  
  
"And if you didn't lie then you kept the truth from us. But no longer! Tell us, Crystal Tiara, if you so find it in my faith in you to tell us so; tell us where we are!"  
  
Crystal looked helplessly at her. "You know where you are, Hermione. You're in Enol-,"  
  
"Liar! Stop lying to me! Crystal, tell me the truth, for Draco and I have seen everything! We went out there and the spell failed. We have seen it, the terror, the horror and the pain. God, I could even be going mad right now for all I care, but I want to know the truth! Draco and I deserve the truth. Now tell us, where are we!"  
  
If Draco would have had the strength or courage, he would have looked up only to see a hysterical Hermione gazing intently on a panicked Crystal standing but a few steps above her. Harry's cape that had been closely wrapped around Hermione's shoulders, previously, was now falling to her waist, their comforting warmth forgotten. But Draco had neither the strength of movement or mind to turn around, nor the courage, so he simply continued to face the wall, his only notion of what was happing coming from his hearing.  
  
"The truth," Crystal slowly repeated, forgetting everyone else in the room and seeing only Hermione, this small, terrified girl beneath her. "Do you really want to know the truth, Hermione?"  
  
Hermione bent her head down to her. "It is all that I ask. Just tell me, where are we?" Crystal hesitated, her dark eyes blank in light of the situation. She flicked her gaze to Leo, who returned it with a nod and then faced the group again. For a second, Harry thought they were preparing to cast a spell on Hermione, for Crystal's eyes had clouded over in blackness and Leo had lost all boyish features in his face and instead looked poised and ready; but there was no spell to be done. When Crystal next spoke, her voice was void of any emotion and her words were of the Oracles language.  
  
"Eht ecal pfoet amitlu tnem hsinab.  
  
Erehw reht ien do og ronlive sedis er,  
  
tubere hweht edut ilosof niotalosi dlouc ebfo rehtie do og ronlive.  
  
Erehw sluos gni tiaw rofe gass apot Nevaeh yrcs foret aw."  
  
Her words were powerful, the fluency of her speech sending chills up Harry's spine. And as she continued on to tell her story in Ytineres, she let her voice fade the slightest bit so all could hear Leo translate the story for all to understand.  
  
"The place of ultimate banishment. Where neither good nor evil resides, but where the solitude of isolation could be of either good or evil. Where souls waiting for passage to Heaven cry tears of water, and where souls waiting for passage to Hell cry tears of blood. Where there is no darkness, only shadows. Where there is never calm, only silence. Where those trapped to insanity dig groves into stone; where those trapped in simple waiting are weighed by their achievements.  
  
"A remote land, one unseen yet when seen is wished to be forgotten. My only living blood relative and I are bound to this world for our entire lives. Lives that are cheated out of death to grant us a few more years of torment. A world I grew up seeing, and will die seeing as well. You have unknowingly entered the land of Enol."  
  
"Emoc lew, rofeew rea nieht dnal fo Yrotgarup."  
  
"Welcome," Leo concluded, his eyes fearful and his voice strained. "For we are in the land of Purgatory."  
  
****  
  
"It cannot be, Arabella. Are you certain of your observations?"  
  
Minerva McGonagall sat in The Three Broomsticks with Arabella Figg, sharing tea for the last half hour as the frail, old woman before her informed her everything she had seen and heard for the past month.  
  
"I would bet my life on it," Arabella replied, her shaking hands gripping her cup sternly. "They are planning something; something huge against Dumbledore and Harry. Oh Minerva, they have been watching my house day after day, trying to get information against our side. To go on for months, trying to hide my magic and the messages from you and Albus! What if they intercepted one of the owls? To think, they would know exactly who was where and doing what. But they are planning, Minerva. They most certainly are planning."  
  
"But it can't be that horrible," the professor persisted, shaking her head. "How bad could it be? The Dark Lord has yet to take a drastic measure against us. The dementors are being held forcibly at Azkaban, the remaining giants have been contacted, and all other dark creatures are being traced and apprehended. All our spies have been watching the previous Death Eater households, save the Malfoy Manor and Avery Manor, and thought there is suspicion there has been no hard evidence. Without so much as an army of a dozen Death Eaters, how in the world could the Dark Lord hit us so drastically?"  
  
The woman shook her head fiercely. "He is plotting a takeover so cunning, that it could destroy half our population by midnight! Do you remember how he fought in the old days, Minerva? How his attacks were sloppy yet organized? Random yet chosen? His greatest element was surprise, and he always knew how to create a distraction from his motives. This time we must be aware. We must take the extra precautions! He was speaking of power nonexistent to the world, Minerva! Powers ridiculously potent to even him; and you know that, even when he was in school, he never believed in anything unless he knew of the facts."  
  
She waited, hoping her words would enlighten the professor to take drastic measures. But little did she know that the decision was much harder than it looked. True, when Albus was away it was McGonagall in charge; but on matters such as this she couldn't help but feel caught in the middle.  
  
Her first reaction was to yield to the request of Arabella and send warning to all the members of the Order and those faithful to Dumbledore; it would surely keep those who placed trust in him out of harm. But what would the others do? Without a Dumbledore to keep them in line, any number of them would gladly storm out in confidence that they could stop Voldemort by their own hand.  
  
"I am sorry, Arabella," McGonagall said, setting down her cup and staring into the contents. "But at the moment, there is nothing I can do."  
  
****  
  
Hermione stared, her eyes wide and unbelieving. She could feel the tension of her two best friends behind her; feel how Harry's green eyes darkening in comprehension, and feel how Ron was breathing slowly, clearing his head every time he exhaled. She just stared up at the worried face of Crystal, the veil of darkness gone from her eyes and her dark hair framing the pleading face of forgiveness.  
  
"Purgatory," Harry muttered behind her; the word cutting into his very speech. "Purgatory."  
  
"A place where there is no time, where all souls end up one way or another," Hermione replied quietly, staring into the ceiling. She gave a small, dead laugh. "Clever me.why didn't I see it before."  
  
"Hermione," Crystal began, chancing a step toward her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to-," But she stopped abruptly as Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked at it, then up at the old, wise man, his face set and weary.  
  
"I think," he started, looking down at all of them, "that we have all had enough adventure for one day. Now is the time for rest and relaxation, especially for Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy. Come, children. Off to bed, we shall go." He nodded to each of them, indicating that they follow Leo up the stairs.  
  
Leo only glanced sidelong at them before running back up the stairs to where Dumbledore stood. After a few minutes, Harry, Ron, and then Hermione followed, her head hung low and her eyes glistening.  
  
"Draco," Crystal said, staring at his figure, still sitting against the wall with his back turned to them. "Come on, you better come with us."  
  
He did not move.  
  
Hermione looked up from the ground. "I'll get him," she offered blankly, starting down the steps. "You guys go on. We'll catch up."  
  
It was in their nature for Harry or Ron to say something to this, but instead they held their tongues and simply nodded, turning back towards Leo and following him up the staircase. They knew that the only person to ever understand what was wrong with Hermione was Malfoy; and though it pained them to know it, it was best that they made with peace with each other as soon as possible.  
  
Hermione waited until the others were out of sight before she moved forward to Draco. She still clutched Harry's cloak about her, but it did not help to ease the stirring cold billowing from within. Slowly, she walked to the wall where Draco sat and kneeled down next to him. He did not acknowledge her.  
  
Hermione stared at the side of his face for awhile, knowing why there was so much defeat there and why expression was even blanker than dust. Only she would understand that horror forever etched into his features; only she would be able to share it.  
  
After a while, Hermione shrugged off the cape from her shoulders, unknown tears welling in her eyes. With gentle fingers, she slipped them around Draco's shoulders, her eyes never leaving his face. He did not need the covering, but did not have the objective to make it known. He needed her to do that.  
  
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, whispering it into the empty air around them. "I'm so, very sorry."  
  
With this Draco shut his eyes, wanting so much to smack her right then and there. She, who was taking blame for everything they had seen, for the fact that they had been trapped in the heart of Purgatory. Who gave her the right to allow her to take that responsibility, gratefully ridding him of it? Who gave her the courage? And yet, Draco still did not move.  
  
Then, before another uncomfortable pause could be felt between them, he felt her small, warm hands snake past his neck and pull him into a tight hug. Her hands clasped themselves beside his face , and her head was buried deep into his shoulder, She was rocking back and forth, holding onto him as of he were her last hold onto life itself, and making as though she would never let go.  
  
He did not remove her from him, did not become angry and did not wish for her to leave. Instead, he closed his mind to all thought and concentrated on her body next to his, knowing that she understood and that she would be the only the one.  
  
He didn't care that she was muggle-born, that they were enemies and that they had hated each other for years to come. There was only that moment, in which he was held in an embrace that embodied everything he would ever need. Then he could feel her warm tears fall onto his hand, the silent crystalline droplets scorching his skin. But he did not have her stop. He wanted to stay that way forever, devoid of any thought of Purgatory or of anything. He wanted her to never let him go, to never leave him, and to never stop crying their tears. He needed her to do that.  
  
****  
  
A/N: I know, kinda ending a little abruptly there, but that was the best way for me to end it and I like it so ha! Anyway, I hoped you liked the chapter I hope people are actually reading this story and I hope people would please review! But for my ONE person who is reading this story, (Thank you, Marleina!!!!), here's what's coming up ~ Draco had Hermione's bond grows bigger, Crystal goes insane, Leo shows everyone that he's got moves, Harry gets sucked into oblivion, Dumbledore is ACTUALLY RENDERED UNCONCIOUS, and Ron dies.or does he? More to come, if you just keep on reading.an reviewing.please??? 0=) 


	9. The Unpaved Path

Chapter Nine ~ The Unpaved Path  
For what felt like hours, Draco and Hermione stayed sitting on the floor, taking silent comfort in the embrace and saying not a word. But soon, too soon, Draco could feel her arms fall from his neck and feel the weight of her head on his shoulder lift. He, himself, straightened up from the wall, his head swimming and the cloak around him falling to the floor.  
  
He was briefly aware of Hermione whispering something, something that sounded like 'we better go', but he was only half paying attention as she remained sitting next to him. With little knowledge and much grace, Draco brought himself to his feet, not stumbling in the slightest and rising as if on wings. No trace of any emotion but tiredness crossed his face as he looked down to her and offered his hand, pulling her silently to her feet. And with that, they continued on their way upwards.  
  
But before they had gotten so much as onto the staircase, Draco suddenly halted and turned toward the entrance door. Hermione hadn't noticed until then that he had been holding onto her skirt the entire time, but now she felt the weight of it falling and turned to look at him as he began walking back toward the door. She didn't know it then, but she had been holding his hand there from the beginning.  
  
"Draco," she said, using his given name and not the one she was prone to. "Draco, what are you doing?"  
  
But he did not answer; he did not trust himself to speak just then. Instead he proceeded to the door, letting her watch him in wonder.  
  
When he reached it, he placed his palm against the smooth, cool wood. It was almost welcoming, the great, oak door; but he knew what would be on the other side, and it created a hot, billowing anger inside of him. There was a pause, and then with one, swift and enraged move, he took hold on the bolt and slid it home, an echoing boom to accompany it.  
  
It took little effort for him to do such a thing, though his slim body did not show it as so, but his hatred for this place they were in, Purgatory, caused him to exaggerate. For a moment he stalled there, his hand on the bolt and his breathing fast; his gray eyes glinting blue with rage and his teeth clenching in his mouth, but soon he relaxed himself as Hermione called out his name and beckoned him toward her.  
  
As they walked up the stairs, it did not seem awkward for them to be with one another; the pureblood and the muggle-born. Neither did it strike them as embarrassing that they were enemies on the rift and where walking shoulder to shoulder through the halls. What it did feel was right. Right that it was them sharing this dreadfulness. Right that it was them who saw the reality of things. Right that they were the ones with this bond.  
  
And when they reached the fourth floor where the others were, no one said a thing, not Dumbledore, not Ron, not anyone. They only left the two to themselves, walking a few feet in front and letting them get through this together.  
  
"You will be staying on the eighth floor," Crystal stated softly, half chancing a glance backward, and then thinking better of it. "There is a room there where all four of you will feel greatly at home."  
  
After these words were said there was silence, each person in their group expressing something different yet all the same. Crystal and Leo were in the front, her head slightly bent and his arms wrapped around his body, as if he were cold. Next came Harry and Ron, their shoulders drooping and their heads wandering, both of them trying not to think about what could have been prevented had they been there for Hermione.and Draco.  
  
Behind them came the Headmaster, his figure erect and his hands folded in front of him. His face was stern and there was no twinkle in his eyes, only a dull spark of solitude. And behind him came Draco and Hermione, standing together and looking, most unlikely out of the group, the most alive.  
  
Draco had returned Harry's cloak to Hermione, the glistening white now dropped over her once again. She walked with her head to the side, gazing out the window at the forest, the innocent cloaking spell once again in place. She straightened her shoulders, her grip tightening on the cloak and her brown eyes alive with fire.  
  
Next to her, Draco's head was held high, his arms stiff and fists clenched at his side. His eyes glinted like antimony and his back was straight and strong. He took long, slow strides, making sure he did not go ahead or behind Hermione.  
  
Then he felt her as she unconsciously grabbed his sleeve, her small hand disappearing into the folds of white. It was the first time he actually acknowledged the fact that she was touching him, and it only bothered him slightly. He looked down at her hand, small and feeble, and then up to her face, staring out the window having no knowledge of what she was doing. For this reason, he said nothing about it.  
  
As they reached the stairwell, Dumbledore proceeded on down the curved corridor, saying that he would continue to his regular room and see them all bright and early in the dining area. There was nothing happy in his voice and, like the time when Harry had seen his face over the Pensieve last year, he looked ancient and exhausted.  
  
After the Headmaster had departed, Crystal and Leo went on to show the others their room, having them follow their footsteps up more and more stairs and around countless and never-ending bends. Finally, after everyone had grown sick of climbing higher and higher, Crystal announced that they had reached the sixth floor, and opened the door to lead them in.  
  
They led them down the end of the corridor and to the circular door at the far end. It was gold with stripes of red, and it struck Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco as very familiar. As if hearing their thoughts, Leo turned his head to them and blessed their sorrowed souls with an authentic smile, neither forced nor strained. It was enough to lighten the spirits just a bit for all of them, except Draco.  
  
"This," Crystal said, facing them and extending a hand out to push back the circular door, "is where your home will be for the time being. I assume that it will be unnaturally familiar and comfortable to you." And with that, she waved her hand to let them enter before her, and so they all did, mouths falling open at the sight that met their eyes.  
  
It was Gryffindor Common Room; the Gryffindor Common Room that three out of the group had known for five, long years. The couches near the center, the squashy armchairs, the extravagant fireplace, the intricate rugs, the warm colors and the cream-colored stone; it was all there. Ron's eyes fell on the familiar stairway upward, Harry's fell on the usual paintings and portraits, and Hermione's caught sight of the one thing in the common room that was different.  
  
Near the back corner, where the grandfather clock should have been placed, there were rows and rows of tiny, boxed shelves, reaching high up near the ceiling. In each shelf were long, slender boxes of what undoubtedly were many, many wands. Intrigued, Hermione walked straight for the wands, her eyes fascinated and her mind momentarily, and mercifully, straying away from her previous terrors.  
  
"Leo," came Ron's astonished voice from behind her. "Leo, what is all this?"  
  
The small boy only shrugged, trying hard not to grin too broadly. "Home is what I call it."  
  
"It's exactly the same," Harry muttered, gliding a hand over the armchairs. "Exactly.... How did you do it?" he asked, looking up from the floor. Crystal looked at Leo and Leo only shrugged once more.  
  
"I saw it in a book once. Something called Hogwarts, A History. I just really liked your common room, it looked so homey and relaxed and I told Crystal that I wished I could go to Hogwarts for schooling; when I was little, mind you. But when she told me it was impossible I had cried; I was only a little boy. So she made this room for me, choosing one of the many empty ones scattered all over this tower. She did everything so that it could be the exact twin, a replica of the original. The only difference is that I have my wand collection back there by the wall. I make wands as a hobby, you know." He looked very proud of himself indeed, and it wasn't ill-placed.  
  
"This is remarkable," Hermione whispered, low enough for only her and Draco to hear it.  
  
As if on instinct, Hermione's cold fingers reached out for his comforting warmth, but her hand met only empty air, indicating his absence. Panicking, Hermione spun around and looked at the others gathered near the center of the room. No fair-blonde head was among them.  
  
"Where is Draco?" she demanded, unable to hide her frantic concern. Calling attention upon his deficiency, all four of them looked around the room, wondering, as well, to what whereabouts he had gone too.  
  
"There he is," Leo exclaimed, pointing past Crystal's hip and at the door. Everyone turned their head to look and, sure enough, there was Draco, leaning against the outside wall as casually as if he were a bystander on the street. His arms were naturally crossed over his chest and his eyes were half closed. The moonlight from the window next to him made his hair and face glow with radiance, and for a split second he reminded Hermione of the old Malfoy, the Malfoy whom she loved to argue with and loved to hate. The key feeling there, she noted to herself, was the fact that she had loved it, yet loathed it now.  
  
"Draco Malfoy," Crystal called beckoning him forward, "please come in, we need to show you to your dorm room."  
  
"No," Draco replied, his tone a strained drawl yet his face immeasurably blank. Crystal looked appalled at his refusal.  
  
"You need rest, Draco Malfoy, and I would guess that out of the four of you, you are one of those who need the most sleep. Now please, do come in and join us."  
  
"No," he repeated, with a bit more emphasis this time. Crystal was loosing her patience.  
  
"And why, may I ask, is the reason for your rebellious, and might I add, irritating behavior?" she demanded, her hair standing on end. Draco seemed none to intimidated by the way her eyes were darkening in slow rage. In fact, he looked positively bored.  
  
But to her answer, he only shrugged lazily. "That's a Gryffindor common room. I'm a Slytherin; enough said." He adjusted his back against the wall, watching them. Crystal looked utterly surprised.  
  
"Ex-excuse me?" she said, leaning toward him. "I must have heard you improperly. Are you telling me that you won't come in here because you're a Slytherin and this is a replica of the Gryffindor common room?" Draco nodded in response, slowly, for his head was still swimming.  
  
"Yes, that's right."  
  
"So I take it this is the famous Slytherin pride I have seen all my life, correct?" Crystal prodded, trying hard to suppress her rage, focusing on the fact that this boy had just returned from the outskirts of Purgatory and was probably concealing his true fear and fatigue with this act.  
  
"Not all Slytherin pride as much as it is my own stubbornness, actually. I see it as no flaw in my being, a mere pro, not a con," he told her.  
  
Maybe not so much an act.  
  
Knowing that his sister's patience was being tried, Leo stepped in front of her to attempt a reason with Malfoy.  
  
"Please, Draco Malfoy, you need rest and relaxation! The ordeal you have just been through will take its toll on you physically and mentally very soon. You don't realize the condition you and Hermione are in. You may think you are weak now, but the sickness will only hit an even greater climax and it will come close to being unbearable. My sister and I are mainly concerned for you for this very reason. We wish you and Hermione to be asleep when that climax of magic occurs, for the pain will be less so.  
  
"Please, Draco Malfoy, just listen to us! This place is the only room that is prepared for you right now. I don't think you understand what the cost was for a living soul to be exposed to open Purgatory is! I must say, Crystal was a bit rash on sending anyone out there-," He cast a glance at his sister who did not feel the right to talk back. "-but what is done is done and all we can do now is fix it. Now, with all that said, would you please get in here so we can show you your bed?"  
  
Leo, Crystal, Harry, Ron and Hermione all waited, watching Draco to see what affect Leo's speech had had on him. He looked somewhat the same; the only thing about him that had changed was that he had opened his eyes to look at the boy as he spoke, as was polite and right of him. But now he parted his lips, meaning to give his answer.  
  
"No."  
  
Harry and Ron sighed deeply, Crystal only dropped her head and Hermione simply loosened her grip on the cloak. But Leo shook his head, looking to Draco like an old man would look to a defiant son, but did nothing to persuade him further.  
  
"Alright then," Leo finally said, walking to the entrance of the room and stepping out to meet Draco. He looked up into his face as Draco remained leaning against the wall. "If that's the way you want to play it, then fine. But I'm a nice person, and I can see that the affects of Purgatory are taking place. You look a little pale."  
  
He reached a tiny hand up and poked Draco's cheek. Draco only stared at his hand for a moment before reaching up and gently pulling it back down.  
  
"I really couldn't guess how you could tell, but yes, I guess I do feel a little light-headed," he said calmly. "But I stand by what I said earlier: I'm a Slytherin, and I won't stay in a Gryffindor dorm." He looked down at the boy.  
  
"That's alright. But mind you, it will take sometime for me to fix your room up." Leo beamed at him.  
  
Draco only shrugged. "Where will I be staying then?" he asked.  
  
Leo turned around and pointed to a door that was right next to the one leading to the Gryffindor common room. Draco could have sworn that it hadn't been there before, though he had to remind himself that his senses weren't as alert as they should have been when he was walking here.  
  
"That will be your room here," Leo said, walking over to the plain, wood door and pulling it open. "It would have been made otherwise for you, seeing as you were not of the trio in the beginning; but since you are ill, I would have guessed that human company would help you. And if you still deny staying in there-," he jammed his thumb toward the door behind him.  
  
"Not likely," Draco answered.  
  
"Well then, at least sit on the couch and take a break while I fix your room," Leo persisted. But still, Draco shook his head.  
  
"I told you, I'm not going in there."  
  
"So you would rather sit out here on the cold stone floor?" Crystal demanded, walking out of the room as well. Draco looked at her, and then past her shoulder to where Hermione was standing with Potter and Weasley, watching him. How he longed to be in the company of anyone, sitting in front of a warm, magical fire and trying to forget everything in the world; but longings such as this showed weakness, which Draco was far from ever being.  
  
"Yes," he told her, almost as though he enjoyed denying. "I would even go back outside to that hellhole that you call home and mingle with the lesser folk," he drawled, gladly making some of the color drain from Crystal's cheeks.  
  
But when she spoke, her words were steady. "Alright then, stay out here. Leo, I will leave his room to you, for I've enough of his disrespectful talk towards me. I'll go to bed now." And she was about to take her first steps towards her room when Draco spoke up.  
  
"Disrespect? I'm sorry, but aren't we the same age? You're starting to sound a little like my father."  
  
"You should try to use your talents of judging people to greater use, Draco Malfoy. Though I look your age, do you feel the sense that we are equal in existence?" Crystal challenged.  
  
"All I know is that you talk as if you stepped out of the 12th century," he told her. "But yes, you do look no older than fifteen, maybe sixteen."  
  
"Well then, you flatter me," Crystal said, then was on her way before she grasped this brilliant boy by the shoulders and shook him senseless until discipline was thrown upon him.  
  
"If I had known, I would have never done so," Draco muttered, but Crystal never heard. Leo watched his sister go before turning back to Draco.  
  
"Wait here, then. I'll be done in a second," he assured him, then disappeared into the room. So Draco slid down the wall, sitting on the cold, stone floor like before, though this time he was not tormented by past images. As the boy slid behind the wooden door, Draco turned his eyes back to where the common room was, hoping to see Hermione before he went to bed. But the only thing he saw were the two boys, sitting by the fire and warming themselves from the flames, talking together like old friends.  
  
Hermione was no where to be seen.  
  
****  
  
Leo walked into the room; the bare, unfurnished room with its naked walls and windows, allowing the moon to shine its beams into the room like white fire. It would not take a lot to make this room livable, just a few essentials and the like, but Leo wanted to make sure it would be enough to comfort the plagued soul of someone like Draco.  
  
Besides, he wanted to use his powers as much as he could, so that these four students from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would know that, though he was an Oracle and therefore very powerful, that there was more to him than mere past sight and nothing more.  
  
Gathering his thoughts, Leo concentrated on the image of the room and how it would look like when he had finished. Already feeling the magic gather inside of him, Leo spread his arms wide to begin building the magic in his hands.  
  
****  
  
Hermione fell down onto her familiar Gryffindor bed, Harry's cloak falling uselessly to the floor. She couldn't have stayed downstairs for very long, whether or not Draco had agreed to bunk with Harry and Ron. When Leo had explained that Draco and she had not yet seen the pinnacle of the affects, Hermione had a sudden surge of what felt like ice cold water cascading down her entire body. And when Leo and Crystal went out into the hall to talk to Draco, Hermione had quietly told her best friends that she wanted to rest and ran as fast as she could up the stairs and into the dorm that she was certain would be there when she came to it.  
  
And upon opening the door, Hermione found everything that she had ever owned, her trunk, her bed, her books on the dresser, were all there. The only difference in the room was that Lavender and Parvati's beds were absent; which wasn't a surprise. Also wondering if her regular wardrobe was here as well, Hermione went to the dresser and pulled open the drawers. But the only white garments similar to the one she wore now met her eyes.  
  
But soon she became bored of trying to occupy herself, so Hermione had decided to try and go to sleep. She had chosen a plain white night dress, (because, for some reason, Crystal seemed to find it unfit for a girl to wear nothing but a dress), but she still seemed much to weary to slip it on.  
  
She just sat on her bed, with its regular red and gold trimmings instead of the usual white that she was quickly growing sick of. Hermione had no idea what the affects of Purgatory would have on her, but by the look and tone that was in Leo's voice, she got the feeling that it would not be pleasant in the slightest.  
  
Sighing deeply at her own weakness and self-pity, Hermione quickly snatched up a white ribbon from her side table and bound her hair up so it was gratefully out of her face. Then, with the will that belonged only to Hermione, she forced herself to slip out of her gown and into the night dress. The sleeves were quite large and very comfortable; falling to a small bell like the one she had worn before, except the skirt was less portly, so she would not be uncomfortable as she slept.  
  
Climbing into bed, the light of the oil lamps still burning, she lay awake, staring at the crimson canopy above her and, for the first time in hours, thought of the event she had been through, minus the internal struggle.  
  
So all those shadowed images down there, the river of tears and the tears of blood, they were the cause of Purgatory. But why was Purgatory so horrible? It was supposed to be a place where there was no good nor evil, where neither had the power to reach it. So why was it so terrible?  
  
But then, looking back on the memory of the place and trying to rid herself of her recent feelings towards it, Hermione discovered that the feeling upon Purgatory could go either way. When that spell had faded from her, she recalled that there had been an absolute silence about the place; and, to the harried soul of someone who had suffered long and hard in the boisterous world, the silence could have been pleasant. And the darkness could have been comforting to someone who had been withered in piercing light all their life.  
  
Now that she had thought about it, Hermione understood why Crystal and Leo were here. They had said it themselves; they were neither good nor evil, but both. So it was only fitting that they, too, lived in a place that was neither good nor evil, but both. It all made sense to her now, and she even wondered why she hadn't seen it in the first place.  
  
Hermione wasn't sure how long she had laid there in the dark, staring up and boring herself into a stupor. She was afraid that she would have not been able to be alone because of the shadows she'd seen, although, now that she had put it all in a new light, it didn't seem all that intimidating. And because of her fearlessness, she had ungratefully forgotten that the effects of Purgatory to a living soul had not yet hit their climax.  
  
And, sadly, it happened when she least expected it.  
  
****  
  
"Done," Leo exclaimed, stepping out of the room and into the hallway. It had only been but ten minutes, but already Draco's muscles ached from the hard floor and wall and the cold stones had chilled him to the bone. He would surely be sick with a cold in the morning.  
  
"That was fast," he grumbled, flying to his feet once again. It stressed his body greatly, but he would never show himself less than immaculate in front of anyone.  
  
Leo watched him get to his feet, marveling at the fact that he could still move at all. "I may not be very old, but I am an.-well, I'm a wizard, and I know what I'm doing." Leo clenched his fist. He had been so close to telling Draco he was an Oracle, and of course, Draco had not a clue what they were. He would have to be more careful in the future.  
  
Leo looked up and saw that Draco was giving him a questioning glare, obviously catching onto his stammer, as only a Malfoy could do. Hastily searching for a way to change the subject, Leo gazed around the corridor and his eyes fell onto the closed door leading to the common room, the red and gold stripes boldly standing out against the gray stones.  
  
"Hey, they closed the door," he said, stating the obvious yet not really caring.  
  
Draco looked up from him and to the door as well. "Well yes, I guess they have," he said.  
  
"Don't you find it a bit rude that they closed you out of the common room without anything to keep you warm or even attempting to offer you a comfy seat? They are kind like that, you know," the boy told him. Draco shook his head.  
  
"Oh, I know they're like that," Draco told him, waving the remark aside.  
  
"Do you?"  
  
"Yes, I do. Being the bold little Gryffindors that they are, they came out here and offered me a seat by the fire with them. When I said I wouldn't be caught dead anywhere in their common room, they offered to sit out here with me while I waited for you. When I told them that their company could do little more than render me blind from their hideousness, they clenched their teeth and persisted that I at least take the blanket they held out to me so I wouldn't be cold. And when I told them they would never understand that the cold came from within they lost their anger and went back in, shutting the door. But enough of that, kid. I am tired and I want to see how my room looks."  
  
And with that, Draco brushed past Leo and in the door. Leo only looked after, surprised for minute, but then followed. It stunned him to know that Draco could still be so cruel. But then again, he was suspected to be the next balance.  
  
Shrugging off the thought and hoping to help resolve some peace between the three boys tomorrow, Leo stood inside the room with Draco, pleased to see that at least some amazement flickered across Draco's face.  
  
The bare room was not fully furnished, with a four-poster bed against the middle of one wall and a dresser on the one across from it. There were two side table drawers on either side of the bed, and a long, ebony table stretched along the far wall. Two, long windows completed the scenery, placed on opposite sides of the bed and allowing the moon to shine its light into the room. To complete the room, Leo had covered the bed, the windows and even the dressers with dark green and silver hangings, bed cloths, drapes and throws. There was even a green and silver rug covering almost the entire length of the room.  
  
"I thought you might be sick of white by now," Leo said, as Draco walked further in and towards the bed. "At least, I know I am. But you said you were a Slytherin, and you seemed proud of it, so I thought this would help you feel better."  
  
"Of course I'm proud of being a Slytherin," Draco automatically responded, stroking the green hangings and feeling the soft velvet on his skin. "Why wouldn't I be?"  
  
Leo shrugged. "No reason. It shows that you're ambitious and cunning. Not bad things, I say. But anyway, this will be your room for as many nights as you need it. Dumbledore said you would only be here for three moons-,"  
  
"Moons?" Draco questioned. Leo gave him an annoyed look.  
  
"Yes, moons. Dumbledore said you would be leaving when the next portal opened. It's a shame, really. We wouldn't have minded having you here, but it is your decision. Anyway, you better get ready for bed; I'll be back in a little bit. I'm just going down into the kitchens real fast so I can brew you and Hermione the potion that will help rid you of the effects of Purgatory. Just wait here and don't go to sleep right away; you have to drink it beforehand. No worries, I won't take long."  
  
"Are you sure about that?" Draco asked, sitting on the bed and pulling off his shoes. "If I recall, it was a fair walk up here from the dining room."  
  
Leo only shook his head at him. "Ah, but you already forgot, Draco Malfoy. I am a wizard, and wizards have ways of making this just a little easier for themselves." And with that, the image of his body rippled, and he was gone from the room in a flurry of blue and white light.  
  
Only mildly impressed, Draco shrugged off the mystical exit and proceeded to get ready for bed. Upon pulling open the drawers of the dresser, Draco found that there was still the endless void of white clothing. Sneering at this annoyance, Draco chose a pair of loose fitting cotton pajamas and slipped them on, inwardly appreciating Leo for his mercy on making his room a different color other than white.  
  
He then sat down on the side of the bed, hoping the kid would hurry up so he could fall into unconsciousness. Draco wasn't sure what time it was, but he reckoned that it was getting pretty late. Looking out one of the windows, he saw that the moon was far into the sky, indicating that it was past midnight. Draco sighed heavily and fell back so he lay on the bed. He threw his arms over his face, making sure his eyes did not fall upon the Dark Mark engraved there. He was still worried about Voldemort contacting him and finding out about his betrayal, but it struck him as odd that he hadn't connected to his Mark all day. The Dark Lord had made sure he checked up on him daily for awhile.  
  
Pushing that out of his mind, Draco fought to stay awake, for the sake of Leo and his potion. But though he willed himself to stay awake, his body had other ideas; and he unknowingly fell asleep. Fell asleep so suddenly, in fact, that he missed the sound of Hermione's terrified cry from the room next to him.  
  
****  
  
~Fire and ice; darkness and light; Heaven and Hell. Everything was surrounding her, choking her with their existence. Death, death was the strongest of all, but there was also Life. But Life was so far away.  
  
The tower, there were people here. More and more people, like shadows in her view. Harry was on the ground, bruised, beaten-.broken. Crystal and Leo, they were there also, but was it really them? Leo was far away, lying on the ground, his back against the wall. He was staring at her, but his eyes were blank and scared. Leo never gave the feeling that he could be that scared.  
  
Crystal was on the opposite wall of him. She was alive with emotion, though. Her hair tousled, her face pale and white, her dress wrinkled and stained; and her eyes so shocked, surprised. They were like great, black orbs in her face, dead with ice yet alive with fire. Fire and ice.  
  
But where was Ron? Where was Draco? There, the flicker of red hair. That was Ron, but why did he stand among the shadows? Why wasn't he with Harry?! But wait, he did not stand. Darkness and Light. He was being held up, for he could not stand on his own. Was he a prisoner? They needed him, the shadows. Needed his mind from the light. But what did Ron have that they needed him? No power for him.no power.  
  
Draco, she still could not find him. Where was he? Where was he? Up the tower, out the dungeon, leave Harry.leave Harry.. Up the stairs, through the doors, past the windows. Was it morning or night? It was warm like the morning yet dark as night. Hell.  
  
Draco, Draco, she could not find him. Where was he? Why did she leave Harry, and Ron? She didn't want to, didn't need, didn't have to. But she was gone, flying up and up and up. And as she rose the darkness faded. There was light, there was light.white, white light! But it came from under her, not above. Where was it coming from? It was welcoming and soft, chilling her skin that was scorching from the heat. Heaven.  
  
Up and up.higher and higher.farther and farther..It was only her; she had found everyone but Draco, and she couldn't find him. Or was he there? Was that him, lying on the floor, still as a corpse? But he couldn't be dead.he was breathing.  
  
"Laeh y dob, enervate," she said. What did those words mean? Life, life.life was draining out of her. It was going somewhere.somewhere.  
  
Fire and ice; darkness and light; Heaven and Hell.where was she? Where was she? Where was she?! So much Death, so much Death. Yet Life was there, but it was so far away.~  
  
"LAEH Y DOB, ENERVATE!" Hermione screamed, sitting up in bed. She was breathing very fast, her heart pounding in her chest, threatening to break out. Sweat drenched her back and her hair was falling out from the ribbon that held it. Her head ached terribly and her muscles screamed, as if she had been running for miles. Her hands were gripping the bed sheets under her and she couldn't stop whipping her head around, as if looking for something.which she found.  
  
She was back outside, outside in Enol unguarded by magic. She still lay in her bed, but it was no longer in the Gryffindor common room. It was where she had been we she had first seen the shadows, the souls, trapped here. Her heart leapt in her chest, and she screamed again, only this time, it was for a different reason.  
  
The souls had faces! And not just random people, but people she knew. Hogwarts students, relatives, old friends, people she had met on the streets. All of them had a face, a body, clothes and everything. They stood out against the darkness, as if they were unaware of the world they were in.  
  
Hermione pressed herself against the head board, her eyes wide and unbelieving. She was awake, she had to be! Her dream was over, it was over, and this didn't feel like a dream at all! But it couldn't be real.  
  
"Hermione," someone said to her, and her eyes darted to her left. When she saw who had spoken, Hermione let out a huge breath which she hadn't been aware that she was holding. The green eyes that she had grown up looking toward for protection stared back, clearly alive and not a dream at all.  
  
"Harry," she gasped, her body relaxing the smallest bit. "Harry, it's you!"  
  
"Of course it's me," Harry replied, his brow furrowing a little and a small grin playing on his face. "Don't you recognize me?" He held out a hand to her and Hermione took it, momentarily forgetting that she was surrounded by barren land which, much to her lack of notice, was slowly fading away to blackness.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry," she apologized, slipping off the bed to stand in front of him; she was still breathing rather hard. "I haven't been myself lately. Why are you in here? Did you hear me scream?"  
  
"Scream?" Harry repeated, looking questionable. "You didn't scream, Hermione." He looked solemn. "You haven't screamed in a long time."  
  
Hermione looked puzzled. "I didn't?" she asked, looking up into his face. "Oh, it must have been my imagination.. So then why are you in here?" At this, Harry looked genuinely offended.  
  
"Hermione," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking down at her in earnest. "Hermione, I came to say good bye."  
  
"Good bye? But, where are you going? You can't leave, Harry. There's no way." But he seemed to be oblivious to whatever she was saying to him.  
  
"I didn't want to leave without saying good bye to you. I already said it to Ron, but I couldn't leave without you knowing. I want you to know that I love you, Hermione. Not like any other love, but that I care about you. No matter what happens, you will always be my best friend and part of my family. I love both you and Ron. You two are the only family I have ever known, and I just wanted to make certain that you understood that. I'll miss you, Hermione." And then Harry bent down and kissed her on the cheek, something he wouldn't have normally done.  
  
When he straightened up, Hermione looked at him with a new emotion: fear. This wasn't Harry, this person, smiling at her as if what he was saying was nothing, pretending that he hadn't heard her scream and kissing her like a little sister. This wasn't Harry, whose eyes were dead with relaxation and enjoyment, and whose voice was giddy and untouched by sadness. This wasn't Harry.  
  
"Who are you? You can't be Harry; Harry wouldn't say that." Hermione began, stepping back from him. "And where are you going?"  
  
Ignoring her earlier questions, Harry answered only her last one. "Hermione, I'm dying."  
  
The blood froze in her veins when he said this.  
  
"You're what?" she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper.  
  
Suddenly Harry's face melted away, revealing the one she had known for years. The fake Harry had silently disappeared, only to be replaced by the one whom she had befriended five years ago. "I'm dying," he repeated, the emeralds behind his glasses filled with sadness and depression. "I'm going to die, Hermione, and I wanted to say good bye before I did."  
  
Then, in a shimmer of blue and white light, he was gone.  
  
Hermione ran to where he had stood only moments ago, searching the darkness around her for him. The only thing she could see was her bed, and it gave her no comfort. What was happening?  
  
"Hermione," another voice said, and reluctantly, she turned around; and there was Ron, sitting on the floor and leaning against nothing, his clothes glowing like dull moonlight and his body looking as though it weighed a ton. But to her great relief, he looked like the Ron she saw each day, only now he looked so tired.  
  
"Ron," she said, walking to his side and kneeling beside him. "Ron, what's going on here?" she begged him. He simply looked up to her, his blue eyes bright with regret.  
  
"Hermione, I am so sorry," he said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I'm so sorry, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't save him."  
  
"Ron, Ron, what are you talking about?" Hermione demanded lightly touching his shoulder, scared that if she touched him he would certainly break.  
  
"I couldn't save him. I'm so sorry." And he kept repeating this, apologizing for who knew what. And no matter what she could do, Hermione could not silence him.  
  
"Ron, you don't have to be sorry for anything," she told him. He looked to her at this, and what she saw on his face made her stomach twist.  
  
He was crying blood. Tears of ruby red blood were cascading down his face, trailing against his white tunic and falling onto the dark floor. Hermione backed up and away from him, frightened. It was just like the souls, the souls out in Enol, the one that had been standing next to her and Draco.  
  
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron continued to say, his blood-stained face looking up sadly at her. "I couldn't save him." And then he too was gone with the shimmer of blue and white light.  
  
****  
  
~There was something about him, from the moment he was born, he was destined for something well beyond his own reach. Something he could never change. And he saw it, the Dark Lord. He knew that he would be the next one to follow in his footsteps, should he, himself, ever really die; which, of course, he couldn't.  
  
Yet he still did not know what he was. Did not have any clue that he was special, special in a way that he was actually destined to struggle for equality with Harry Potter, for they were one and the same for their own side. But he did not know.he could only dream that he did.~  
  
****  
  
"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron asked, looking up from where he lay on the couch as Hermione walked past him and into an armchair by the fire. "You look worse than yesterday."  
  
"That couldn't be possible," she replied, closing her eyes and massaging her forehead.  
  
It was the next morning, the one that had followed the previous night of mystery and revulsion, and Hermione felt no better than when she had finally gone to sleep last night. It was a miracle that no one heard her scream last night, for she really didn't have the obligation to tell anyone about what she had seen.  
  
After the dream image of Ron had left, everything else in her dorm room went back to normal. She had found herself standing by her bed and breathing fast. A few seconds later, Leo had come knocking on her door with a potion in hand. He had said that it would help ease the magical effects and that she should take it right away and then go to sleep; and knowing when to trust someone and when not to, Hermione thankfully agreed to this and drank the potion before she had even shut the door.  
  
It seemed to have worked; for the rest of the night nothing extraordinary had happened, but she wasn't all too sure it was because of the potion. Either Leo had used it before and found it quite effective, or Hermione had simply just experienced the climactic events of Enol and the danger had already past. But regardless, she slept soundly and dreamlessly, yet the color was still not back in her face yet.  
  
"You look like you could do with some breakfast," Ron told her, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at her. He was in the same fashion of white tunic and trousers as when he had first arrived; very similar to her, who wore a white frock as before.  
  
"Where's Harry?" she asked, trying to avert the subject away from herself.  
  
"Right here," Harry called, coming down the steps and up behind Hermione's chair. "Shall we be off then? I'm starving, and we still have a lot of information to deal with the Oracles and Dumbledore."  
  
"Oh, hush up, Harry," Ron groaned, heaving himself to his feet like Hermione. "Who talks like you, aye? 'We've got information to take care of'.honestly, you'd think you worked for the Ministry or something."  
  
"But he is right, you know," Hermione groaned absently, pushing open the circular doorway. "We do need to get to the reason why we're here at all."  
  
"You two are hopeless," Ron moaned. "I mean really, both of you should have been put into Ravenclaw, not Gryffindor."  
  
"Ron," Hermione started.  
  
"Yes?" he replied.  
  
"Just shut up."  
  
For the entire journey down to the fourth floor, the three friends walked in silence, either not having the energy to talk or simply feeling comfortable with the silence. When they hit the last landing, however, Hermione's still weak body gave way a bit and she almost fell. Thankfully, Harry's quick instincts made his arms shoot out to catch her.  
  
"Hermione, are you sure you're okay?" he asked her as she got to her feet.  
  
"Oh yeah, I'm fine. It was probably the potion Leo forced down my throat yesterday. It made my body feel really strange. I couldn't stop shaking." She continued to walk down the hall. "I think all I need it some breakfast, like Ron said." And it was her who led them to the dining hall.  
  
Hermione pushed the heavy double doors open, only to reveal Draco already at the table, an empty dish in front of him and a goblet of something that was billowing purple smoke and sparks. He was dressed in the same attire as Harry and Ron, and he looked just as smug as he did back at school. By looking at him, no one could have guessed that he had shared the same horrific night as Hermione, for his composure and stance revealed nothing but arrogance and high authority.  
  
He looked up when they entered, his grey eyes stormy, matching the sky outside. Hermione faltered a little from his stare, but then pulled herself back and walked into the room, Harry and Ron behind her.  
  
"Morning, Malfoy," Hermione said as gently as she could.  
  
"You're late," Draco said to her, his annoying drawl back in place and his energy rejuvenated.  
  
"Not at all," Harry told him, being brave and pulling out a seat next to him. "We're right on time."  
  
"Not you, Potter," Draco spat, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms. "I was talking to Granger. Did you hear the kid when he gave you the potion last night?" He eyed ruefully.  
  
"What?" she asked, not having an inkling to what he was talking about. Draco grumbled dramatically.  
  
"Granger, he told you to come down one hour prior to the time when the sun had risen. You needed to take the potion again before that, so it would be in effect all day. Honestly, you of all people should have known this."  
  
"Oh. Well I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't paying attention," Hermione replied, preparing to guard herself from his rising attitude. It was remarkable that Draco could so easily return to his previous nature after what they had gone through.  
  
"Then pay attention next time," Draco growled at her, standing up from his chair. Hermione became indignant at his ignorance.  
  
"Well, Malfoy, maybe I wasn't paying attention because I was being tormented by unseemly visions," she shot at him as he headed for the door. He waved a hand at her, swatting her remark aside.  
  
"Well, see, I really don't care about that. It was just that the kid told me to tell you that when you finally came down. Don't kill the messenger, Hermione." And when he spoke her name it was filled with sarcasm and aggravation, but not hate.  
  
"So where are you heading to, Malfoy," Harry tried, thinking that at least attempting to do good towards Draco would help the Headmaster's position greatly; and it would also save Harry, Ron and Hermione from fighting with him all the time. In truth, Harry never did like to fight anyone, save for Voldemort. But somehow, Draco had always known the exact ways to get under his skin; but not this time. This time Harry would, once again, take a shot at the impossible and try to forge a truce.  
  
Draco stepped out the open doors and turned to Harry, eyes lowered and back straight. "Not that it's any of your business, but Dumbledore asked to see me after I had delivered the message. Now eat; he and that Crystal girl want to have a talk with you three afterwards. I really don't know why, but for some reason they like seeing you. Can't imagine why but- ." And with that last remark, Draco closed the doors and stalked off, leaving the three of them in the dining room alone.  
  
"Well, that was awkward," Ron said, looking amused.  
  
"Ron," both Harry and Hermione started.  
  
"I know, I know," he replied, holding up his hands in defense. "Shut up. But hey, would you look at this!" He was looking down at the table in front of him, and Hermione and Harry understood why. There was a silver plate of food in front of each of them, having materialized there with some flashing blue lights and smoke, without their knowing. It had been so the night before during dinner, but the effect still surprised them, as they were used to the food just appearing at Hogwarts.  
  
For a few minutes the three of them ate in silence, pondering on what their agenda was for the day and about the questions they wished to ask Crystal. Hermione's thoughts, however, drew back to the visions she had had last night. She knew they were visions, having the feeling that they were to going to pass in time, but she didn't want them to, and she was afraid that when they did, she wouldn't wake up from it. But what stumped her the most was the fact that they were visions.  
  
Leo had said that people like Professor Trelawney didn't have foresight, but that they were messengers who received glimpses of the future for Crystal; that it was her who sent the visions. But Hermione wasn't a medium; she had never had the thought that she could predict any kind of future save for a few well researched guesses. So what about last night?  
  
More time passed as she continued to eat, feeling each bite in her mouth like a little bit of heaven on their own part. It seemed that Leo was a great cook, and that Ron had been right about food helping her out a little.  
  
Then, very slowly but suddenly, someone pushed open the dining room doors and walked in. It took a moment for Hermione's eyes to adjust because of the bright window in the hallway, but the identity of the newcomer was soon revealed as the swish of skirts and the dark eyes caught her gaze.  
  
"Crystal," Harry announced as the girl closed the door behind her. "Good morning to you."  
  
"And good morning to you too, Harry Potter," Crystal replied, smiling at him. She was wearing what Hermione had seen in a book on the priestess of Avalon in the days of Camelot. Her white gown was very elegant, folding in on itself several times, and the white robe that draped over it had cut under sleeves that reached well past her feet. Her dark brown hair had been braided with white pearls into it and bound about her head in a coronet, crowning her face with a halo of auburn cinnamon. About her neck was a choker with one, amber stone set into its center and on her finger she wore a ring extremely similar to that of the one that Ron wore. In this attire, Crystal looked very regal indeed, and many years older than any of them in the room.  
  
But in her hand she held a goblet that had looked like the one Draco had been drinking out of. It, too, had purple smoke and sparks flying out form its contents.  
  
"Hullo, Crystal," Hermione said politely, eyeing the goblet. "Er- what's that?"  
  
Crystal only glanced down at the cup briefly as she walked over to the table. "Oh, this?" she asked, indicating it. "This is for you, Hermione. It's the potion Leo made for you last night. You have to take it one more time today before you go on about your business. I thought Leo had told you that you were supposed to take it an hour before sunrise, but I guess the little guy forgot." She walked over to stand behind her and placed the goblet in front of her. Hermione didn't have the will to tell her that Leo had told her about the potion, only she had not been listening.  
  
"And Dumbledore and I wish to talk with the three of you today. No doubt there are questions to be had and answers to be said. Also, Dumbledore still has to reveal the other half of his reason of bringing you three here."  
  
"Other half?" Harry asked, setting down his fork onto his now empty plate. Seeing that he had finished, Crystal cast the silver platter one gentle stare, making it disappear from the table. "What other half of his reason? I thought I was here so you could give him a taste of my future."  
  
"Oh, don't get me wrong," Crystal told him, walking to the china cabinet behind him. "That was the base of your coming here, no doubt. But you aren't staying here for a month just so I can tell your future."  
  
"A month? We can't stay for a month, we've got lessons to attend to," Hermione stated, a bit outraged. But Crystal only laughed at this, touching the lock on the cabinet with her finger, making it burst into a cloud of glistening dust.  
  
"Don't fret, Hermione. We're in Enol, you must remember that. Neither good nor evil can reach us here, so it is only logical that time cannot either. The most it can do is pass us by. In your time, the longest you'll be gone is, say a week, maybe less." She glanced over her shoulder at the relieved look on the girl's face.  
  
"Oh," Hermione breathed, taking her indignation down. "Alright then."  
  
Crystal nodded to her and opened the cabinet, reaching up to the top shelf and pulling down a large silver basin. "But for that month there will be reason for your stay here, and when Dumbledore tells you about it I suspect you'll find it very helpful with your fight against the Dark Lord." She closed the door again, touching the space where both doors met and having a brand new lock spring there. Then she turned to them all, the basin in her arms and a smile on her face.  
  
To Hermione she looked very different; older, more experienced and mystical. There was a hint of mystery in her dark eyes, but no more menace. Her smile seemed natural to her now and the way she held herself was dissimilar indeed. She stood straighter, with more authority and dignity than when they had first met. Back then she had seemed the same age as Hermione, with a shroud of darkness and evil cloaking her. Now she seemed to be a creature of the light, a priestess all on her own. This was probably why she had been announced as a being of both good and evil; it was so easy for her to do both.  
  
"Finish your breakfast then," she said, heading, once more, for the door. "And when you are finished go upstairs to the fifth floor and into the second door to your left. Dumbledore and I will be waiting for you there." And with that she left, taking the unknown warmth of her presence with her.  
  
****  
  
~Fire and ice; darkness and light; Heaven and Hell. He wasn't sure where he was or what he was doing there, just that something was wrong, and it was somehow his fault.  
  
He could see nothing, nothing but blue so dark it was nearly black. He wasn't sure f he was human or creature, ghost or spirit.alive or dead. But there was something, wrong, and it had been his doing that had caused it. He needed to do something, anything.because someone was dying, and it could be himself.  
  
Then he was running, running down stone corridors that he knew; had known for five years now. They had given him comfort before, but now there were too many, and they were blocking his path to safety.  
  
He carried something in his arms; something warm yet light. It felt like a person, but why was he carrying a person? He looked down, looked down to what his pale, cold hands were holding, and his stomach turned at the sight that met his eyes.  
  
It was Weasley's little sister, Ginny or something, and she looked very different from the previous times he had seen her. Her body was limp in his arms, heavy with a dead weight yet light from loss of blood. Her eyes were closed; the eyelids blue with the cold. Her fiery red hair was dangled helplessly as he ran with her. Fire and ice.  
  
The school robes she wore were ripped and torn, deep slits red with blood glaring up at him as if to mock. Some of her blood was soaking into his own shirt, but he couldn't care less. Her arms, legs and face were beaten and bruised badly, and her skin was whiter than snow, giving her the appearance of a corpse. He wasn't sure how he had gotten her into his arms, how she had gotten like this; but he did know that if he didn't get her help soon, she would surely die.  
  
"She isn't my responsibility," he suddenly said to himself, though he kept on running. "She is nothing to me." But he knew he was lying. He cared for her; cared for her like she was his own sister. He cared for her so much, this tiny human in his arms, like a silk china doll. But she would die.she would die and somehow it had been his fault.~  
  
Draco's eyes snapped open; his head jerked slightly, but otherwise the rest of his body did not move. His breath was coming in fast, too fast, for his head began to swim with dizziness; but he kept himself composed, staying perfectly still and catching his lungs in his chest.  
  
He was lying in his bed, with the covers pulled up around his neck and the curtains drawn closed. He could feel the warmth from the sheets blanketing his body, but still he was freezing to the bone. He had the sudden thought that he'd never again be warm as long as he was in this place.  
  
After Draco had left the dining room he had headed straight for the fifth floor, where the Headmaster had said he would be waiting. Wanting to get the information that he wanted to tell him and get back to his room, Draco walked as fast as he could without running.  
  
Halfway to the stairwell he had met Crystal, and it was a sight that surprised him very much. When he had first laid eyes on her he had the impression that she was just this regular fifteen year old girl who dressed strangely and had a weird hidden lifestyle, nothing exceptionally peculiar about this. But now, now she didn't look at all like the girl he had met but yesterday.  
  
She was dressed in her regular garments of the olden days, but now she looked completely different. He wasn't sure, but Draco had the notion that her white dress and draped-over robe looked like the garb of the priestess' of Avalon, the first sorceress' during the reign of Camelot and King Arthur. Though her under cut sleeves reached all the way to the floor, it didn't seem as though she dragged them, but that they glided behind her as if on water. Her hair was done up with tiny pearls around her head and she wore a single choker of amber about her neck. In her hand was the same goblet in which Leo had given him earlier.  
  
She was only a tad shorter than himself, but Draco was very tall for his age, so this was a compliment on her part. And though her youth gave the expression that she was not a day older than he was, Crystal had this sense that she was well beyond his years, being both wiser and more noble. For the first time since he had arrived there, Draco wondered what her official title was and what kind of witch she was.  
  
"Dumbledore is waiting for you," she said to him as they passed, her pallid sleeve grazing his side. It sent a strange sensation traveling up his arm, making it numb with lifelessness. "There isn't much for him to say, just some things he wishes to ask you."  
  
And then she was past him in a swish of white silk. It wasn't until then that Draco ever questioned her magical status, but he quickly pushed that paranoia away before it led to fear.  
  
In no time at all, Draco had found the room where the Headmaster was and did nothing more than stick his head in and answer his questions. Dumbledore didn't ask much of him; he simply wanted to know how he was feeling and if he still wanted to leave in three days time. Answering yes to every question, Draco was allowed to leave and do as he wished for the rest of the day.  
  
Taking this comment for its true meaning of 'we have important business to deal with and we would rather have it that you were safely far away', Draco had headed straight for his room, wanting to catch up on the sleep that he had neglected the night before.  
  
He had silently slipped into bed, hoping to close his eyes and not wake up until dinner; but it seemed that his dreams had other plans. No sooner had he closed his eyes did he find himself in the darkness, and the epic dream of mystery had begun.  
  
Sitting up carefully, Draco pulled back the green hangings and swung his feet over the edge, pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead. There were still after images of his dream, hazed as they were. He could still see Ginny's red hair, her Gryffindor badge, and her red blood.  
  
Draco pushed himself to his feet, grabbing a towel from one of the drawers and heading out the door. Leo had shown him a bathroom not very far from here for his exclusive use only, and he wanted to take a hot shower to drown out the peculiar dream from his mind.  
  
As he passed his door, his eyes fell on the globe embedded into the wall by the frame, as it was all over the tower. It would activate every globe in the tower, calling either Crystal or Leo to his side instantly. He hesitated for only a second, his hand closed over the door handle. But soon he shoved the thought of assistance out of his head, opened his door, letting it close with a soft click behind him.  
  
****  
  
"I'm ready," Crystal announced, coming over so that she was kneeling next to Dumbledore who was seated comfortably on a feather pillow.  
  
"Very well then," Dumbledore said, groaning a bit as he adjusted his legs so that he sat cross-legged. "We're just waiting for Harry, Ron and Hermione to come and then will try this method of yours out."  
  
"I still see no point in all of this," Leo stated, pacing back and forth behind the two. His hands were clasped behind his back and he was staring up into the ceiling. "I mean, why use such an ancient and primitive method when you could just go and find out what's going on in the real world with your power?"  
  
Crystal sighed and turned her head to look back at him. "Because, dear little brother, I don't want to take the chances with my powers yet. I know that I'll be using them in two more days, but that's still more time to at least try and confine them rather than nothing. Besides, you know this way is just as effective as any other. Our ancestors were using it to see things before I was even born, let alone send them visions of my own accord. Now come here, I need you to fill this basin; I don't want to get my clothes wet." She waved him over to herself, scooting over a little so that he'd have room to squeeze between her and Dumbledore. Sighing dramatically, Leo stumbled over to where she sat and fell down heavily beside her.  
  
"Fine, I'll do all the work while you sit dandy as a flower. I'll fill the basin while all you have to do is wave your hand side to side. Make your little brother do all the work and lecture me again like I don't know things," he said, exaggerating his words and making faces at her. Crystal only laughed playfully and rustled his golden hair.  
  
"Stop complaining midget, you get the easy part."  
  
"And don't I know it," he mumbled, and ducked as his sister made an aim for his head. "Hit me not, priestess! Be it unfit for your veil to see such brutality," he said, speaking in the old dialect and showing emphasis with his hands. Crystal only smiled wickedly at him.  
  
"With such a formal use of vocabulary, you should be wise to know that calling me priestess is hazardous to your health." She made a face at him and gathered her skirt up as she rose to her bare feet. She had taken no more than a few steps across the room when the door was suddenly opened. Dumbledore, Leo and Crystal all looked toward it as the three people they had been waiting for entered the room, but stopped short as they caught sight of the room. Crystal could only smile at their stunned looks; they would soon have to learn that nothing was what it seems in Enol.  
  
"H-Hey." Harry stammered, staring around the room in polite astonishment. "We just got done with breakfast."  
  
"Great!" Crystal exclaimed, smiling wider. She quickly glanced at Leo who returned it with amusement in his eyes. They had to admit, out of all the rooms in the tower, this was one of the more majestic ones.  
  
When one first walked in, there would be a moment of confusion as to whether that person was inside or out. In this large room everything that should have been, wasn't. The floor was not of hard stone but of the same velvety grass as outside, stretching all the way to the rounded walls. There were many trees in this large area, along with many green shrubs and hundreds of colorful flowers. In the middle of the room was a large pond, the water inside glistening with diamonds, almost as though the sun were shining upon it.  
  
The stone walls surrounding this room were covered in vines so thick that one couldn't truly be sure there was stone underneath. They stretched high into the ceiling, opening to a roof of clear blue sky with a few white clouds gliding across its glory. Dumbledore followed the trio's gaze as they looked up into this magical sky. He was seated at the edge of the pond, Leo beside him leaning over it and filling the silver basin with the clear water. Crystal had only gotten up briefly to pick a few herbs from a nearby patch.  
  
"Well, Harry, Ron and Hermione.you may come in," Dumbledore said, grinning brightly at them. All three quickly snapped out of their stupor and looked over to where he sat across the pond.  
  
"Oh, sorry," Harry said, closing the door behind him and leading the other two towards the water's edge. "Er, professor.are we still inside?" he asked. Crystal answered the question before anyone else.  
  
"Don't worry; you're still safe within the walls of our tower. This is only yet another one of our special rooms here in Enol. One thing you three must learn is that in here, nothing is what it seems. Now, if you could come over here we could begin our little 'meeting'." She held out a hand to them, indicating a stone path rising up from the pond's depths. It stopped rising right before it broke the surface, so that a thin veil of water swam over it. Hermione ventured across it first, followed by Ron and then Harry. By the way the path was placed they looked as though they were walking on water.  
  
Once they reached the opposite shore, the path disappeared and they faced Crystal, who was walking back from the tree where she had been. "Strange," she said, holding the herbs gently in her closed palm. "Your reactions to this room were greater than that of Draco Malfoy."  
  
"Yeah," Leo said, sitting back and hauling the filled basin onto the grass. "He barely showed anything on his face. Quite a good master of masking his emotions, that one. He gave this place one glance, answered the professor's questions quickly, and left with no more than a scowl."  
  
"He's had a lot of practice with that," Hermione informed them shrugging her shoulders.  
  
"I know," Leo answered, just shaking his head. "But anyway, back to business. Come kneel here next to us and we can begin. Do you have the herbs?" he said, indicating his last remark to his sister. She nodded and fluttered down into the grass next to the water again.  
  
"Hand me the basin, then. There we go," she grinned, as he passed it over to her, making sure he didn't spill anything. "Alright, let's start with telling them what's going on first." She pointed to the friends sitting together across from them. "Now, Hermione has already asked me for answers about my previous interventions with you three, and believe me, I am aware that you deserve an answer; but the answers are not available to me right now.  
  
"I can, however, give them to you when I become the Wanderer again during the time I look into Harry's future. But then the answers won't come until two more days have passed us by."  
  
"Why two more days?" Ron suddenly blurted, elbows perched on his knees. "Why can't we just do it now?"  
  
"Because," Dumbledore started, "Draco is here. He has yet to know that Crystal and Leo are the Oracles of Prodigy, and I would like to keep it a secret from him for as long as possible. I'm sure you know my reasons why?"  
  
"Because of his Dark Mark," Harry answered. Dumbledore nodded to him.  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"Okay then," Ron agreed. "So I suspect the portal opens up in two days? Well then, we wait for a couple of nights before the big event, no problem. So why are we in here?"  
  
"For a simple purpose," Crystal said, opening her hand over the silver basin and letting the green herbs fall onto the surface of the water. "So we can get a look at what's going on in your world. I could simply astral project there and find out that way, but I rather not risk it. This way may be primitive, but it gets the job done. Plus, it allows all of you to see everything as well."  
  
"I read about this once," Hermione suddenly exclaimed, moving closer to the basin, excited. "This was used in old Britain, in Avalon. What is this herb that you're using?"  
  
"Thyme," Crystal answered, and she caught the amused smile of Hermione before both attentions was focused back onto the basin. Crystal concentrated all her magic onto this one moment, closing her eyes and waiting for the powerful sensation that usually filled her chest. Sensing it, she quickly lifted her lids so that she was staring hard into the basin. "Say not a word," she directed to everyone. "And don't move."  
  
Then she could feel the magic rising in her fingertips, and she waved a hand over the water, hand steady as a drum. The thyme within began to dissolve and swirl, dark green mixing with clear blue. The unseen sunlight caught the water's glare and reflected off the amber stone around her neck. Soon there was the color of darkened honey mixing in with the green and blue, the sun having caught the amber color and dropping it into the concoction. Then Crystal began to speak the incantation.  
  
"I llac nopu eht srew opfo Rerednaw,  
  
thgis erof otemoc y ltfiw sotem.  
  
Who semtah wihsiw fosih tnwon knud  
  
lrow dnae vigem thgis."  
  
Suddenly her hand froze directly over the water's surface and a burst of white light blasted out from it, striking the water and creating a tremendous splash and emptying the basin so that the water was now in the air. Hermione, Harry and Ron all shielded their faces from the water, but they didn't have the need to. It remained suspended in the air, moving slowly through its motions. Crystal was the only one not looking up at it, her eyes directed downward and out of focus. When she spoke again, her words were in English.  
  
"Show me."  
  
At this, the water droplets pulled together with such force that a gust of wind was left in their wake, blowing about Hermione's hair away from her face. Crystal was the only one who remained looking down, her hair untouched and her amber stone glittering madly.  
  
The water now created a sort of screen in front of all of them, wavering as the ripples from Crystal's power hit it gently; and inside the screen, pictures began to form. Pictures very familiar to Hermione, of things she had seen before. There was Hogwarts, the Astronomy tower and the green houses. The picture rushed forward to reveal the inside of the castle, the stone corridors and the suits of armor. Speeding down the hallway, Hermione realized with a jolt that the water was tracing the familiar route to Gryffindor tower.  
  
It zoomed up the staircase and through the portrait hole, passing swiftly through the common room and skidding down the doorway leading to the fourth year girl's dormitories. It entered the room, focusing exclusively onto the bed to the right of the door. Lying on the bed, her red hair thrown about her face and her blue eyes closed to the world, was Ginny.  
  
"Gin," Hermione heard Ron muttered, forgetting that he was not supposed to speak. "Why is it showing my sister?"  
  
"You are worried about her," Crystal replied, her tone neutral. When Hermione looked back at her, she discovered that the girl had returned to normal and was watching the screen with interest like the rest. "You have been concerned with her for a while now, wondering if she is doing fine on her own. But there is no need to worry. As I have said once before, time does not affect Enol, merely passes it by at a leisurely pace. It has barely been but a few hours in your world. She is still sleeping and has not yet woken up for lessons."  
  
"Lessons for what day?" Harry asked.  
  
"For the same day you left."  
  
Ron cast a surprised glare at her. "But lessons start at eight and we left around seven in the morning! Are you saying that it has barely been even an hour since we've been gone?"  
  
Leo turned his stare to him. "Yes," he said. Ron was struck back by the complete bluntness of this statement.  
  
"Oh, well bullocks to me then," he said, turning his attention back onto the screen. The Ginny within it began to slowly dissolve, and a new picture was forming; a new scene. "Hey, wait! Crystal, what's going on? What's happening?"  
  
"We're being shown something else," she replied, and then said no more.  
  
And as the words left her lips, the picture began to take the form of something much different than that of the tiny and gentle Weasley sister. No, this time it was showing something else, or someone else. There was a dark cloak, slitted eyes, white skin and pale, pasty hands. The creature was standing amid a mass of darkness; but soon Hermione noticed that the black shadows behind him had shapes. They were people and animals, mystical creations and followers. As the picture became clearer, the knot forming in Hermione's stomach twisted harder.  
  
She could see Death Eaters and Dementors, ghosts and goblins; veelas and even some giants in the background. It was an army; an army of the Dark Lord's most dedicated servants. One would have suspected all dark creatures fled to his side, but only those with a mind of their own stood among him.  
  
"Voldemort," Dumbledore said, staring at the sinister face before them. "He is planning something. Surely there will be a war in the magical world, and no doubt there will be many deaths and sacrifices. See there, he has already begun to form his followers against us."  
  
"A war?" Ron asked, a quiver audible in his words. "What kind of a war, professor?"  
  
"Oh, surely not the one of which you would think, Ronald," Dumbledore explained. "We will not be charging onto a battlefield, wands at the ready and recruits armored from head to toe. No, this war will be even worse than that, with flocks of dark creatures hiding in every shadow, murdering muggles and massacring helpless victims.  
  
"Also, the Dark Lord is obsessed with the fact that he wants and needs the Oracles. No doubt, that is the reason he has not raised a finger towards us yet; he is waiting until he gains the Present from Crystal and Leo, and then he would be able to alter the one life in which he so chooses. Do not neglect to think that he could use such a power in many ways, upon himself or others whom he has a quarrel." And the Headmaster's gaze fell specifically on Harry, who returned it with an icy green stare of understanding. He nodded once and Dumbledore returned the nod.  
  
"And we all have to learn to fight them, right? That's the other half of the reason for us being here, isn't it, professor? You want us to be trained in defense against the Dark Arts.er.advanced defense against the Dark Arts, right?" Harry assumed, casting a knowing eye to the Headmaster.  
  
"What? What's all this about defense against the Dark Arts? I'm not getting into this war business!" Ron exclaimed, scooting away from his best friend as if he contained some contagious virus. "I'd rather sit this war out, thanks."  
  
"I don't think you have a choice, Ron. You will be involved in this war, no matter what you want. The Dark Lord wants world domination and he will plague any and every person or thing. And, though I hate to admit it, because you are of close relations to Harry as one of his best friends, you and your family are a prime target for his revenge against him. I know you feel bad about it, Harry, but I doubt that Ron takes it out on you."  
  
Ron shot them a quizzical look. "Well no, professor, I'm not too sure about that.. Oh, come on Harry! You know if I have anyone to blame it's Hermione!"  
  
"What?" Hermione protested, outraged. "Why am I to blame here?"  
  
"Because, you're the girl and if something goes right, it's your doing. If anything goes wrong, it's your fault."  
  
Crystal and Leo only laughed at this and Dumbledore shook his head, smiling. Crystal lifted the basin from the floor and up towards the picture of the Dark Lord still rippling in the air. The vision slowly disappeared and the water fell silently back into the basin. She moved over to the pond, then, and poured the water back in.  
  
"And that brings us to another matter," Crystal brought up, standing up from the water's edge. Her hands were cupped together, a little bit of water held tightly there. She let the water fall at her feet, and white lilies sprung up from the ground. "The Love spell," she announced. Hermione, Harry and Ron sighed heavily.  
  
"Right.that." Hermione said. Crystal only cocked an eyebrow at them.  
  
"Don't sound so hopeless. Leo and I did find a counter spell, so you'll all be released from it in a few minutes." Crystal began looking up from the lilies she had created only to be bombarded by three people running to her in expectation.  
  
"Are you serious?" Hermione questioned in exasperation. "You found a counter spell?"  
  
"Yeah," Leo said from behind, fumbling to his feet. "All I have to do it say the incantation of reversal, douse you three in the water and then presto! You're all free, along with everyone else who have been affected."  
  
After this there was a brief moment of celebration, in which Hermione was holding her chest and breathing deeply, glad to know that the epic of her love spell would soon be over. Ron could only grin broadly and nod and Harry's eyes were alive with relief for his best friend.  
  
"But," Crystal said, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder and looking around at them. It was a strange picture, where her and Hermione looked more than ever like older sister and younger. "But, there is something you must realize for the incantation to work."  
  
Harry glanced at her. "Which is.?" he asked. Crystal's hand tightened tenderly on Hermione's shoulder and, in response, she looked up to her. Hermione had never noticed how tall and imposing she could be, yet kind and serene.  
  
"Do you three know why Hermione has but two True Loves when one is all that a person should own?" she asked quietly. The friends looked at each other, confusion in their hearts.  
  
"No," Harry answered for all. They looked to Crystal for her reply to this. She only looked up to the sky.  
  
"Do you feel the connection between each of you, the way your love for one another has grown over the years? And no, I do not mean physical attraction or petty likings, but love. Love for one another that causes you to, at the moment of truth, place your life before them to save theirs. Have you not felt it?"  
  
The trio could only respond with silence. Crystal continued.  
  
"Look at the sky, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. Look at it and see what I tell you. In the heavens there is the blue of the sky, the white of the clouds and the gold of the sun. Now imagine one without the others, and imagine how everything around would be affected. Do you see now your connections? You are all but one thing, and one thing is each of you. There is a bond there more sacred than any power, and it is the basis of your love.  
  
"So you see, that is the reason of failure for the love spell on your part. It was searching for the purest love for its owner, and it found it in both of you. You three have been through trials that no others have experienced; you have shared losses and gains side by side. That is love, a love deeper than even the heavens can touch the stars. Do you understand, now, why the spell did not work?"  
  
"Yes," all three answered, their eyes transfixed on the sky above them. Crystal smiled down at them, and then gazed at Leo.  
  
"Well then, I assume now is the time to free you three of my cruelty." And with that, she slowly sidled away from Hermione, as Leo advanced on them, unseen, and shoved them into the pond, a mischievous child's grin on his face.  
  
****  
  
A/N: Alright, I know this chapter totally sucks, but I had to write it so before the great climax in the next chapter! Also, I know I said there would be all this cool stuff in this next chapter, but I lied; because it's going to be in the next chapter!!! MUAHAHAHAHA!!! Still, please review guys, and I promise you that the next chapter will be better than any other I have written so far!!! Dun dun dun!!!!! 


	10. The Offering, the Sacrifice, the Reason

Author's Note: Hey guys, tenth chapter is up and ready to go! This is where one of the many climaxes happens and I hope you enjoy it. Also, I'm not too sure, but I'm certain I said that Leo has hazel eyes and brownish- gold hair. I might've changed his eyes to blue at one time, and if I did, it was a mistake. Sorry!  
  
Anyway, if you guys find any more mistakes like that, would you notify me? Thanks millions! Now, onward we go!  
  
Chapter Ten ~  
  
The Offering, the Sacrifice, the Reason  
  
"That was a stupid move, Harry. I can get your rook just as easily with my knight and not risk my queen. You should have listened to me when I told you not to move there."  
  
"Oh shut up, Ron. Either way, you're going to win and I will once again know defeat. Honestly, I don't even know why I bother playing against you. At least with Hermione I've got a chance." The raven-haired boy slumped back in his chair, his glasses slipping to the tip of his nose. Ron only shrugged.  
  
"Hey, don't blame me for actually being good in this game. Chess is all about strategy and quick thinking; thankfully, I have both."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows at him. "And where, may I ask, is all this cunning when it comes to our lessons?" He shook his head as Ron rolled his eyes at the remark.  
  
"Some people just don't appreciate a great mind. Now stop stalling and let's get back to the game."  
  
It was nightfall in the tower, the sun already half sunken behind the trees in the distance, and the two friends were occupying themselves with a game of chess this evening, as there was really nothing to do until the next morning.  
  
Two days had already passed by in Enol, and for those two days everyone in the tower had a very leisurely and relaxing time. Crystal and Leo had made it clear to all of them that they were free to move around the tower, go in any room and use anything they saw. This was a great way to spend a day, as the tower was very large and had a great variety of rooms of all sorts.  
  
In this freedom given to them, Harry and Ron had noticed that Draco had found this as a perfect way to avoid them, especially and specifically Hermione. One would think that, after the encounter they had been through and the bond that had undoubtedly been created between them, that Draco would at least have the heart in him to look at her or talk to her or anything. But he did none of these. Instead, he made himself scarce; locking himself in his room or wandering in a part of the tower where the others were not.  
  
Harry had a sense, which he had shared with Ron, that Hermione was a little hurt by his behavior. But Ron had also pointed out to him that Hermione was independent and usually bounced back from things like this, and Harry had to admit that she was just as normal as ever.  
  
"Pawn to queen's bishop three," Harry said lazily.  
  
"Not a wise choice, Harry," came Hermione's voice form behind him, and Harry started a bit, for he did not hear her come near.  
  
"Why would you say that? I have his bishop," he pointed out. Hermione only shook her head and indicated the board again.  
  
"Yes, but you also lost your last pawn. Now you'll never get your own queen back."  
  
"Ugh," Harry groaned as Ron set his command to finish off the helpless pawn. Hermione gave a small laugh before leaving their game and walking over to the shelf of wands that Leo had made.  
  
Yes, Hermione had been getting better and better at hiding her emotions, save for the occasional outburst of hysterical sobs; but she had good reasons for crying. This was saying something of a compliment, as it was that Hermione cried for fear of her life and her friend's while other girls cried because their hair wasn't cooperating with them.  
  
But Hermione had been nothing less than Hermione for the last couple of days. Harry would always find her trailing behind Crystal or Dumbledore, asking polite questions about this and that or exploring some room or another thoroughly. When she wasn't out and about in the tower she would be found in the common room, trying out and inspecting every wand Leo had made and admiring them greatly. Only once did she ask where Draco was.  
  
But now it was the final night before Draco would be on his way back home, and soon the relaxation would be over to give way to the real work. Harry wondered, from one moment or another, if Draco would ever acknowledge any of these events again once they had all returned to school. Surely he had not expected a friendship to suddenly sprout up between his archenemy and himself, but would they continue to bicker constantly when they went back or simply resolve to ignore each other? But Harry did not get to answer his own questions, for Ron had just claimed a triumphant checkmate and was smiling victoriously at Harry.  
  
"Won again," he gloated. Harry blinked.  
  
"What? No way! How could you? You have two pawns, a knight and your king and I've still got half my pieces! You couldn't have won."  
  
"Ahh, but you still doubt me, Harry," Ron said, knowingly pointing at the board. "I purposely sacrificed my pieces so I could try out this new tactic I devised. Honestly, if I'd been playing right I would have beaten you thirty minutes ago."  
  
Harry threw his hands up at him. "Oh sod off, Weasley." Yet his remark did nothing to dampen Ron's mood.  
  
"Aww.don't be such a stiff! It's all just good and fun. Hey, Hermione, where are you off too?" Harry turned his head to see what Ron was talking about and saw that Hermione was halfway to the door. She didn't stop walking when she answered Ron's question.  
  
"I'm just exploring a bit more. Crystal hinted that there was a magnificent library here but said it was up to me to find it. Don't worry, brother dearest, I'll be back before curfew. Oh, and I'll be passing by the lake room while I'm gone, do you two want anything from there?"  
  
Since their last meeting almost two days ago in the lake room, where Leo had suddenly shoved them into the lake and freed them of the spell making them all happy and very wet, Crystal had said that this room was a special privilege to everyone. Many herbs, fruits and vegetables grew there and everything was pure and edible. She said it was okay for them all to go to the kitchens if they were hungry, but she also muttered that the small lake was clear and clean and gave the plant life a rare taste indeed. Harry personally had to favor the apples that grew from the many white blossomed apple trees.  
  
"Nothing for me, thanks," Ron said, swinging his legs over the couch arm and leaning back.  
  
"None either for me," Harry agreed, nodding toward Hermione who only shrugged.  
  
"Whatever you say," she answered, and left the room with no more than a rustle from her dress. As soon as the door closed behind her, Ron looked over to Harry, face blank yet his voice undoubtedly light.  
  
"She went looking for Malfoy, didn't she?" he asked him. Harry cast his eyes to meet his.  
  
"Well, she wouldn't exactly tell us right off the back," he bounced back.  
  
"You've got a point there," Ron answered. A small pause followed. "The guilt is eating her alive, isn't it." It wasn't a question.  
  
"It always seems to, doesn't it?" Harry said to him. Ron could only nod in reaction. "But have you noticed that it never really is her fault?" Ron looked up to the ceiling at this.  
  
"Never is," he answered. "But she always makes it. Maybe because of us, you know? You've got it hard because someone wants you dead, I'm poor, and even Malfoy has a miserable time with his emotions. Yet she always takes the blame for everything else. Why does she do that, you think?"  
  
Harry only bowed his head. "I don't really know. Maybe," he started, looking up and into the blazing fire, "because she's the only one brave enough to take it, and we all kind of need her to do that."  
  
And though Harry didn't know it, there was much wisdom in the words he had spoken.  
  
****  
  
Hermione closed the door behind her with a soft click, her head obviously somewhere other than with her body. She turned toward the hallway she was in and hugged her cloak around her. Looking down each way, she chose to venture down the right path, making it so that she did a thorough search of this floor before hitting the stairwell.  
  
Hermione began her exploration, glad that neither Harry nor Ron offered to accompany her. She was aware that they, of course, knew that she had no intentions to look for the library; she had plenty of time for that. Instead, she was on a mad hunt for Draco, hoping to at least have a two minute conversation with him before he left the next morning.  
  
"That is if he'll have the decency to listen to me," she said to herself, peeking into a room to her left and finding nothing. She closed it and continued on.  
  
It had hurt Hermione the slightest bit that Draco had gone through all means to avoid everyone; her especially. But it hadn't lamed her as much so that she wallowed about the tower; she was stronger than that. Instead she went about her business, but now, on the eve of his departure, Hermione wanted to make amends with him before things got worse over her absence.  
  
She spent a good hour roaming about the building, looking into every room and feeling disappointed at the lack of Malfoy in every one. After what felt like the millionth room, Hermione reluctantly gave up and headed for the one room that she had saved for last: the lake room.  
  
Sighing heavily, she reached the wooden door to the room and laid her hand on the handle. She faltered for a moment, wishing that she could have at least found Draco, because there was so much she wanted to tell him, and also wishing that she could go to her best friends or the Headmaster or even the Oracles with her problems about her dreams, but they wouldn't be able to understand. But she quickly pushed that out of her mind and leaned against the door, opening it.  
  
Hermione kept her eyes cast down, hoping the colorful array of flowers and plants would take her mind off of her troubles. By her vision she could see the flawless green grass bathed in gold. The enchanted sky in this tower was very similar to the one back in the Great Hall, as it also reflected that of the sky outside. Right now the sun was setting, casting the gold hue over everything, with streaks of darkness indicating the coming night.  
  
Closing the door behind her, Hermione walked slowly to where the herbs grew. She was concentrating so hard on her steps that she didn't even notice the other occupant of the room.  
  
"Granger," a cool, calm voice said, pulling her out of her trance. Her head snapped up and her brown eyes focused on the half shadowed figure of the fair-haired boy that was Draco.  
  
He was leaning under a tree bedecked with thousands of tiny, white apple blossoms. The contrast he and the tree made to each other along with the darkened gold surrounding made a scene that Hermione would never forget. It was then that she had her first true feeling that Draco was not some untouchable and invulnerable being who enjoyed the downfall of others threatening his reign; nor was he the cruel boy she had known since first year, their rivalries growing with every look they exchanged and every insult they threw at one another.  
  
But Draco didn't look like that now. At that moment he looked immaculate, a god-like creature bathed in the glow that was his glory. His face was unnaturally relaxed, bearing an emotion that both shocked her because she had never seen him like this and had never seen him bear any emotion at other times: he looked so.at peace. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't scowling, and this brought his face into something new and intriguing. So this was the great glamour that made the girls back at school swoon; and Hermione couldn't blame them at that moment either.  
  
"Granger," Draco repeated, his tone soft yet still strong. "Why are you staring at me?"  
  
"Uh.what?" she asked, shaking her head a bit and straightening her thoughts. For a moment she had the crazy feeling that the both of them could be close friends, along with Harry and Ron; that there could be a bond created between all four of them that could take them to so many lengths, but that was ludicrous. But how ludicrous it was, Hermione wasn't sure, for she wasn't entirely certain that it was her own feelings that told her this or if it was someone else entirely hinting at a future development.  
  
"Ah, I-I just came in here to grab some things for my drink. I hadn't any thought that you would be here," she told him. She remained rooted to her spot, suddenly cold but feeling no change in climate. Draco noticed her shiver and lost his look of innocent only to cover his face with the mask of blankness.  
  
"Oh, well then, I guess I'll be going. No need for me to be in your way," and with that polite statement that did not suit him at all, Draco pushed himself off the tree and headed for the doorway behind Hermione. But before he had passed her she threw out her hand and caught his wrist, without looking up.  
  
"No, wait. I have been looking all over this tower for you because I needed to talk to you." She could almost feel his gray eyes looking down at her, one eyebrow raised and head cocked slightly. But he only stepped back so that he faced her full on.  
  
"Why?" he asked. She could do nothing but shrug. Draco rolled his eyes. "Granger, if you want to talk to me then, at some point, you're going to have to actually talk. Now what do you want?" And her reaction to this was not the one he had anticipated.  
  
"Draco Malfoy, what is wrong with you?" she snapped, arms thrown all about and her eyes blazing like a brown inferno. Draco was slightly taken aback by her outburst, half faltering a step away from her, but something in him said that it was foolish to back down from a female; even if the female was Hermione in an extremely bad mood.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied in a monotonous voice. Basically, this was the exact wrong thing to say.  
  
"Are you kidding me? Draco, haven't you noticed that you have completely shunned me away for the past two days? Honestly, I don't know why you did; and it's not like I wanted to become your closest friend either. It's just.I had to share the greatest horror of my life with you and I can't even let out all my emotions to the one person who would understand. And don't look at me like that, Malfoy; I already know what you're thinking, and you're wrong! Don't you think I wanted to go to Harry and Ron about this? Greatness knows it would have been much easier and more comfortable for me to do that, but they wouldn't understand. They weren't there and they wouldn't understand what I was feeling."  
  
"And I would?" Draco questioned, sarcasm heavy in his words.  
  
"Yes, you would. Draco, you were there! You saw everything that I saw! And don't you dare act like you felt nothing because I know you did. We were in Enol, or Purgatory, or whatever; and by whatever name you call it, this place is still very magical. So of course you know what I'm talking about. Didn't you notice it radiating off those.those souls out there?" She waited for his answer. He hesitated, and then only shook his head.  
  
"No," he lied. Hermione gritted her teeth.  
  
"It was like being near a hundred dementors, only maybe a thousand times worse. Oh, and feel free to stop me when I'm wrong. But that feeling was like I'd never be happy, but then I wasn't going to remain sad for eternity. It was like I would be frozen in that moment forever; a moment where terror and serenity were mixed inside of me. It was like a knife was tearing at my heart, opening it and seeing what I was. It was like being trapped in a hallucination, where right but so very, very wrong. I don't know, maybe it wasn't the same for you, but there were times when I still see that hallucination. I'd just be sitting by the fire with Harry and Ron and suddenly I'd get this feeling of helplessness and I would be scared beyond belief. It would be horrible, but it would also feel right, like I was supposed to feel that way. I used to think it-,"  
  
"-was all in my head," Draco finished, turning his back on her and staring at the ground. He hadn't known she was experiencing the same things he was. It should've been obvious to him, but his mind hadn't been working right for a few days now.  
  
"Yeah," Hermione said, a little confused. She chanced a step towards him. "Draco.have you been getting strange dreams as well?" He didn't answer her, just stood there, silent. "They just started with me as well; and they haven't been very pleasant."  
  
"What do you mean just started," Draco muttered, but made sure that she didn't hear him.  
  
"The affects of Purgatory have been growing with every night, not diminishing like Leo said. The first time I had a dream or vision it was terrible. I saw everyone, but they were acting so strange and I wasn't even sure if it was them." She began trailing away; turning away from Draco's back but still speaking to him. Feeling her movement, he turned around as she moved closer to the water's edge, staring intently into its clear depths.  
  
"I saw people in the tower, but I wasn't sure who they were. There was Harry and Ron, but they were beaten down and I didn't know why. Crystal was there, with Leo, but they were different. I even tried finding you-," And Draco tensed when she said this. "But I thought you were dead, because you weren't moving. Then I woke up, but the dream didn't seem to stop there."  
  
Then Hermione went off to tell him about the rest of her vision, or whatever it was. She explained it in all its detail, skipping over nothing and emphasizing on how the Harry and Ron in her vision were acting so different.  
  
"Because Harry would never open up like that, or accept death in such a good way. No matter what people say, I know Harry, and he's still shy Harry Potter from first year. And I've yet to remember a time when ever I saw Ron cry! But he was, Draco. He was crying blood, just like the souls out there in Enol. Somehow I know that these things are only symbols; signs of what's to come. But what are they symbolizing?"  
  
Hermione continued to stare into the water. Draco proceeded with his silence, his head turned to her in a serene matter. Emotions of pity and sadness began to well up in him for her, but he quickly pushed them back down, with little effort, and kept his face immeasurably blank.  
  
"I thought that I could handle this on my own." She gave a cold laugh. "I mean, not to sound ungrateful to best friends or anything, but they are boys and I'm the only girl. A lot of times I have to do things on my own; and usually when we're in a fight, it's those two against me, except once last year. Otherwise, I'm by myself; but I can't this time. You're probably tired of hearing this, but I'm going to say it again anyway; Draco, I'm coming to you because you're the only one who can help me. God, I could use anyone at this moment."  
  
She turned to him, her eyes pleading him, making a knot in his stomach twist painfully. He stared back, knowing he should give up his stubborn pride and just be kind for once. But of course, this was Draco, and kind was one of the things he never would be.  
  
"Listen," he said, with as much gentleness as he could stand. "I know what we went through was.something, Granger, alright? Don't worry, I'm not stupid; and I did feel everything you just said. But see, you fail to point out one important detail." He raised his eyes to meet hers, confusion apparent on her face. "None of this is my problem.  
  
"Granger, I leave tomorrow morning; and with that, I leave behind all this nonsense and unreality. I get to go back to my own life and leave all the heroic crap to you and your little friends. Do you see where this is going? After tomorrow, none of this happened to me. I just have to forget it and then my life goes back to normal. So why don't you take your sad and pitiful problems to hero boy and just let me be.  
  
"Look, I know I asked you to help me once; and you did. Thanks. But none of this is my problem.it's yours. You chose this path when you befriended Harry Potter, so you get to deal with the consequences. I don't know what you were thinking, coming to me. If you wanted pity, I won't give it. If you wanted help, I won't give it; and if you wanted closure, I won't give that either. So basically, you came to the wrong person."  
  
He held Hermione's gaze for a moment, actually taking satisfaction at the horrified and crestfallen look etched there. Then he bowed his head a little to her- his own small way of close to almost saying he was sorry- and turned toward the door. The absence of her voice made him wary of her shock, so he kept his eyes glued to the door, knowing that once outside, he'd be able to breathe comfortably again.  
  
But Draco had only pulled open the door a sliver when a spell whizzed past his ear. It hit the door with the force of a howling wind, lighting it up with a flash of gold before shutting closed and locking with a soft click. Draco didn't show his surprise, but simply lowered his hand and braced himself for the much more powerful blow that would come in the form of a very angry voice.  
  
"What the hell was that, Malfoy?!" Hermione shrieked from behind him. He stood absolutely still. "I said," she started, half running towards his cold back. "What the hell was that!?!" She reached out a hand and grasped his shoulder with enough anger that Draco couldn't help but flinch a bit from it. As he faced her he could never remember seeing such hatred and anger in one person, but there it was, and he had sparked it. It almost amazed him to know that this common muggle-born witch was able to hold her anger just enough so that it didn't make her magic go haywire.at least, without her doing it intentionally.  
  
"I meant what I-," he began, but it was obvious that Hermione was sick of his talking.  
  
"God, Malfoy! I never thought there would be a day that I actually wanted to kill someone, but evidently, I was wrong. I can't believe you! It's like you don't have a conscience or something; not even a guilty bone in your body! You're like a curse on its own, leading people on to almost want to love you and then throwing that love in their feet! Here I come, hoping to find at least some kind of sympathy from you, but no. I poured my heart out to you, Draco! I opened up and became vulnerable, something I don't ever do! What the listener is supposed to do is take someone's sorrows, stuff them in a jar, and throw them into to the sea, only to drown them out with kind words and comfort. But no! The Malfoy's always seem to do things different. Instead, you took my sorrows, stuffed them in a jar, tied me to the jar, and threw both of us into a raging sea of turmoil!"  
  
She was breathing dangerously fast now, her eyes wide and her face losing its color by the breath. She was looking up at him with this power that Draco couldn't exactly place. It was a power that made the color of her eyes blaze, the tension in her hands increase, and the supremacy of her voice ignite. And, remarkably, it angered him that she had this power and he did not.  
  
"Hermione! I told you that I was the wrong person to come to, but would you listen? Of course not! Because, guess what, you never do!" He surprised himself by returning her screams with yells of his own, but it seemed not to baffle Hermione; if anything, it made her eyes darker with fury. "I am not someone who can give you what you want, because what you want is what I don't have. I don't have sympathy, guilt, pity, kindness or anything! I'm Draco Malfoy, and I didn't want this!"  
  
"I didn't either!" Hermione bellowed, throwing her hands out at him. "I didn't want to be haunted by dreams of people I love suffering! I didn't want to see the outcome of the death of souls, or how they spend their moments in judgment! And I sure as hell didn't want to share any of that with you! But see, you don't get to deal with any of this, Draco! Once again, you get to run away; run home like a coward! Always running, and never staying behind long enough to stand up and fight. You leave unfinished business behind because you 'can't handle it'. You're a coward, Draco Malfoy! I nasty, no good, filthy, slimy coward!!! Sometimes I-,"  
  
"Don't call me that," Draco said, cutting her off with a low and venomous tone, but Hermione had fallen off the brink of insanity to a whole new level all its own.  
  
"DON'T YOU EVER INTERUPT ME!!!" she bellowed, whipping out her wand once more and jabbing it, hard, at Draco. "EXPELLIARMUS!" she screeched, and the red light that shot out of her wand exploded in his chest, sending him flying backward with such speed and force that, when he hit the apple tree some ways away, there was a dull crunching sound, placing the threat of a broken back.  
  
He then slid down to the tree's base, falling in a heap of crumpled white clothes. The white apple blossoms were shaken from the branches and were falling all around him in a curtain of pinkish white petals, blanketing him in a sheet of grace. It disgusted Hermione.  
  
For some moments Draco did not move; he lay still on the ground, a dead weight of limbs and blonde hair. Hermione stared at his motionless form with no emotion whatsoever. She was panting hard and her wand hand was still extended out in front of her. Then, as Draco began to stir, the door opened beside her and Crystal and Leo's heads popped in. For a split second they took at the winded Hermione and the lamed Draco, eyes wide with wonderment. But before they could say anything, Hermione spoke.  
  
"Sorry if I disturbed either of you, but I was just saying good-bye to my dearest friend, Draco," she said, exaggerating her words with cruelty. She turned to them and flashed a very fake smile. "I think the emotion was a little too much for him."  
  
And with that she stomped over to the edge of the water, snatched up the sage and hibiscus flowers she had come for, and stomped out of the room, brushing past the Oracles and running all they way to her dorm room safely on the eighth floor.  
  
****  
  
That night Draco lay in his bed, the curtains drawn closed once more. He lay atop his covers, his arms down at his sides, gripping the sheets as he stared hard at the canopy. Leo had said he should relax for the rest of the night, for Hermione had inflicted quite a bit of damage to his spinal cord and backbone and rest was needed to help the healing spell Crystal had performed on him; but no matter how much he tried, Draco could not relax.  
  
~You're a coward, Draco Malfoy. You're a coward, Draco Malfoy. ~  
  
He didn't know, but falling away to relaxation would not happen for Draco. It was an essential; this he knew. Crystal had pestered him all the way to his room about the consequences of poor health when traveling the fourteen hour trip back to Hogwarts. She nagged and nagged until he agreed to down her horrid tea supplement and go straight to bed. She assured him that sleep would be an easy thing and that, by tomorrow morning, he would be all set for his long journey back home.  
  
~A coward, Draco Malfoy. Always running, and never staying behind long enough to stand up and fight. A coward. ~  
  
Silence would soon become his enemy, for it was pressing on him in great amounts so that there was room only for his thoughts and Hermione's words echoing in his head. Words that brought about a great anger that boiled inside of him; anger even greater than that of hers when she accused him of cowardice. Anger so great, it tapped into his magic and made the windows rattle in their sills and the curtains to start snapping as if in a huge wind.  
  
~Run home like a coward. ~  
  
He wasn't a coward, had never been seen as one before this. He was Draco Malfoy, heir to the estate and title of his father, Lucius Malfoy. He was the richest boy in school, with the most authority and cunning. He wasn't a coward, and no one would ever call him otherwise; he would make sure to it.  
  
But despite these promises, Draco stayed up that whole night, staring into his canopy with eyes cold as ice, the same words ringing in his ears.  
  
~You're a coward, Draco Malfoy. Always running and never staying. You're a coward, Draco Malfoy; a coward.. ~  
  
****  
  
"Rise and shine Draco Malfoy! The morning has come swiftly on gilded wings, and your home is but a fourteen hour bliss journey away," came the uplifting voice of Leo from the hall outside. Sighing heavily, Draco sat up in bed and pulled the covers away, taking his sweet time to slide off the mattress. As he did so, Leo opened the door and came in, all smiles and cheery hazel eyes. His white clothing looked even cleaner than before and it sickened Draco to the brink of fever.  
  
"Well, someone's happy this morning," Draco stated, doubling over a little bit as he sat on the edge of the bed. He was trying to settle his churning stomach and also had the advantage at not looking into the boy's joyous face.  
  
"I always try to be," Leo answered bouncing all the way to the dresser. "Now, let us get you ready for that long journey, shall we?"  
  
"What time is it?" Draco asked, falling back across the bed, wincing as even the softness of the sheets stung his back. Leo noticed this, but acknowledged it not. He knew how aggravated Draco got when someone worried about him.  
  
"Very early in the day, Draco Malfoy. It is but five hours past the middle of night and the portal opens at.er.seven thirty two. Now up you get!" He turned away to open the drawers as Draco groaned to a sitting position.  
  
"I can pick out my clothes on my own, thanks," he muttered, as the boy began rummaging through the drawer.  
  
"Well, of course I'm aware of that Draco Mal-,"  
  
"No," Draco said, stopping him before he could finish his sentence. "Look, I know that my name is glorious to say, but could you cut down on it? If you like saying it so much you can have it."  
  
Leo shrugged. "Sorry. But for me, it's not every day you meet someone who's last name is not your own. Anyway, put this on and get down to the dining area."  
  
He threw over a white shirt, and over-tunic and a pair of white trousers made from that same material that was incredibly soft yet so strong that Draco didn't know the name of. "Call me if you need anything," he added, pointing to the globe in the wall.  
  
"Sure thing, mother," Draco drawled, earning a glare from the boy before he left the room so Draco could dress.  
  
As quickly as he could, considering his sore back, Draco dressed in the garments Leo had set out for him and then headed straight for the fourth floor. It only occurred to him then that the sun had barely begun to peak over the horizon, and that he had stayed awake all night, for his eyes burned and his head swam. For a moment Draco almost forgot why he had lain awake all night, but at that moment, as he descended the stairs and the muscles in his back cried out in protest, he remembered.  
  
As he hit the fourth floor landing, Draco silently hoped that he wouldn't meet up with Hermione, not wanting to have a replay of last night's events. Too soon, he reached the double doors and pulled them open, only to meet up with Crystal, Leo, Harry, Ron, Dumbledore and.Hermione.  
  
For a moment Draco faltered, catching sight of her small frame alongside everyone else's. But when he saw that she hadn't looked up, he proceeded in.  
  
Everyone was scattered about the room, some half awake and some very energetic.well, Draco really couldn't say that, as the only one who was energetic was Leo.  
  
Harry and Ron, who were obviously joined at the hip since you could never find one without the other, were both slouching over by the wall, there backs holding them up and their heads drooping towards one another with eyes half closed. In front of them sat Hermione, who had not looked up on Draco's entrance for she clearly had fallen back asleep. Her head was in her arms and she was slumped over the table. Across from her sat Crystal, all dignity and authenticity gone. She was dressed in the same garb as Hermione, (a common peasants frock), and she, too, had fallen back asleep, only she was leaning back in her chair.  
  
Standing next to her, his hands folded in front of him, was Dumbledore. Draco had to stifle a smirk at the Headmaster for he had mimicked the two girls and had fallen back asleep, standing. The only one awake was Leo, who was at the front of the table, his small legs swinging madly over its edge and his head bobbing back and forth. He greeted Draco as he entered.  
  
"Good morrow to you, sir," he piped, hopping down from his seat.  
  
"Yeah, whatever; same to you, squirt. Er.what is this, a siesta?" A grin actually threatened to claim his face. "They're all asleep."  
  
"Well, er-.yeah, I guess they are," Leo said, looking around at all the dozing figures and frowning. "For some reason five o'clock is too early for them. I always wake up at this time."  
  
"I bet you do," Draco mumbled sarcastically. Gratefully, Leo did not hear.  
  
"Well, there's your breakfast," he responded, pointing to the plate of food that Draco could have sworn hadn't been on the table last he looked at it. "And that goblet is a little more of Crystal's tea. Drink some, it will help on your journey. Oh come on, I know you're scared of Hermione but just get over there. She hasn't a clue that you're in here."  
  
Draco looked down at him. "I'm not scared."  
  
"Yeah. I know."  
  
Without another word, Draco sat down to his breakfast, staying as far away from the sleeping Hermione as possible. All the while, Leo spoke, telling things he needed to know about his journey home. He told him the time he would arrive, where he would arrive, what he should not tell people about where he had been and so on. Draco absorbed all the information as he should have, asking no questions and just remembering everything. When he had downed the last drop of tea, he responded.  
  
"But despite all that, I get to go home?" he asked. Leo only nodded.  
  
"That is what you wanted.right?" he prodded, unable to keep a hopeful look off his face. "You wanted to go home and forget about this place. It is what you said."  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
"Well, is it still what you want?" He stared hard at Draco, awaiting the answer. There was a small pause.  
  
"Yeah," Draco replied after a short while. "Yeah."  
  
"Okay then," Leo muttered, a little disappointed. "Let us get this over with then."  
  
****  
  
"Only a few more minutes," Leo said, checking the globe on the wall. "Fourteen hours from now, you'll be home sweet home. Are you excited?"  
  
Draco did not answer.  
  
It had been almost two hours since he had first woken up to the still darkened sky. Crystal, Potter, Weasley, Dumbledore and even Hermione had all said their good-byes to him and left for the dungeons while Draco remained in the dining area with Leo. Actually, he couldn't really call them good-byes, since Harry had been overly civil and Ron grunted more or less. Hermione had simply bored him with her icy glare and did a sort-of wave in his direction. It was Dumbledore and Crystal who gave proper farewells before departing.  
  
"You look troubled. What's wrong?" Leo suddenly asked him from his seat on the table's surface once more. Draco was by the wall, one shoulder leaning against it and his hands stuffed into his trouser pockets.  
  
"Nothing's wrong. How can anything be wrong? Life is dandy," he drawled. Leo scrunched up his nose at this remark.  
  
"You're very sarcastic, you know that?"  
  
"Hadn't the faintest."  
  
"Well, you are," Leo said. "And it's driving away everything you could ever want."  
  
Draco stared at him. "Excuse me?"  
  
"You heard me. Sarcasm can be a great asset or a great weapon. In your case, you use the thing to beat others within an inch of their life. It's already driven away any hope of a friendship between you and Hermione Granger-,"  
  
"Stop." Draco was staring hard at the ground, his stare intense and his body stiff. "I don't want to hear what you have to say about her."  
  
"Fine. One minute left." Leo jumped off the table and walked to the middle of the room. Draco mimicked him; pushing himself off the wall and moving to stand next to the small boy. They both stared at the air before them. "But she's right you know."  
  
Draco shot him a look of death. "What did you say?" But Leo only shrugged.  
  
Then there was a great burst of air and massive swirl of color began to grow out of the air before them. In no time at all it became a whirling portal of wind and colors; the path from here back to Hogwarts.  
  
"This is it," Leo cried over the roaring noise. Draco watched him as he skirted around the portal and towards the door. The wind was lifting both their hair, making it dance in turrets about their faces. "It's your path back home. You need only to enter, and when you come out on the other side, you can choose however you want to think of this place. You could remember us or forget us. So I guess this is good-bye, Draco Malfoy. For your sake, I hope you live a brave and prosperous life!" And with that, he slid out the door and left Draco with the howling portal.  
  
For moments Draco simply stared at it, wanting to step through yet not wanting to. It was almost as if by leaving, he would lose something that could be his. He didn't know exactly what it was, but suddenly the voice in his head spoke up, shedding light on the subject.  
  
~ Always running, and never staying behind long enough to stand up and fight. You're a coward, Draco Malfoy.~  
  
Yes, with his leaving, Draco would have once again proved Granger right and lose all dignity of himself.maybe even more than that. But if he would just leave now, then nothing of the past few days need ever be remembered, and he could pretend to forget it.  
  
He looked into the portal, the colors creating a dance of ages before his eyes. For what felt like days, Draco stood there, the howling wind encircling him and a dilemma fighting for attention inside his head. What would he do?  
  
Then the decision came to him like a burst of emotion. He knew what he would have to do; knew which way he could not live without. Raising his head high and straightening his shoulders, Draco took a step forward.  
  
****  
  
"So, what are we doing in a dungeon?" Ron asked, yawning widely as he followed Harry, Hermione, Crystal and Dumbledore into the wide and dank room.  
  
"You're getting answers," was all Crystal said, and it was enough to shut Ron up for the remaining time. The Oracle led them into the room, stopping only when they reached the other side. It must have been a fair walk between this wall and the door, for Harry could have sworn that he couldn't see the chains hanging from the wall from where he stood at the door.  
  
"So," Hermione suddenly began, her tone unusually shy. "I guess Malfoy has left then?"  
  
"More or less so," Crystal said, inspecting the manacles. She touched one and it shimmered with a deep green light. "He seemed anxious to leave. He would have been welcome to stay, of course."  
  
"Is this it?" Harry asked, walking over to her and watching as she continued to poke each metal clasp, making each shimmer with the green light. "Do we find out everything today?"  
  
Crystal looked at him, her face grave. "Yes, you do. And I want to talk to you three about that really quickly." Ron and Hermione looked to her. "To get the answers you're looking for, I'll have to return to the state I was in when I created the questions. It won't be easy, and the result won't be a happy one. I may become frightening, believe me, it isn't only you who will be frightened; but trust me when I say I have no intentions to hurt you."  
  
"But what if, you know, you accidentally let a Killing Curse fly and don't even realize it?" Ron asked.  
  
"That's already taken care of," Crystal responded, indicating the chains. "I'll be chained to the wall, so I won't start rampaging about the tower. And there are very powerful binding spells set into each chain. My magic will be strictly contained. The only type of power that can escape these holds is one that has to be pretty powerful; and I have yet to know such power as to break these bindings."  
  
A silence followed this, in which everyone did not move but gathered themselves. Then the entrance door opened once more and in strolled Leo, face set with determination.  
  
"Well, that's done. Draco Malfoy is on his way. We can begin."  
  
"Alright then, let's get this over with," Crystal said, sounding uncertain. "Leo, would you?" She leaned up against the wall, between the chains.  
  
"Right."  
  
The boy walked over to his sister, helping her clasp the hard metal over each wrist and each ankle, securing each one into the wall with a spark from his fingers. When he had finished, he moved back to where the other four were standing, surveying the scene.  
  
"With those, we'll be completely safe," Leo said to them. He didn't sound completely sure.  
  
"So, what happens now?" Harry asked, staring at Crystal, who was standing against the wall, the long chains reaching to the floor around her.  
  
"Well, this may take awhile. I need to tap into my powers." Crystal looked a bit mournfully at them. At that moment, it occurred to Harry that this could probably hurt her a great deal. He was about to protest to this, saying that they didn't need the answer enough as to place someone specifically in danger, but Crystal had already gotten a faraway look in her eyes and the room was becoming suddenly cold.  
  
Then she tilted her head up a little and whispered something in Ytineres. The room became abruptly silent, all sound gone; but hardly anyone noticed, for all eyes were glued to Crystal. She was going rigid, her eyes clouding over just as they had been when Harry had first seen her in the dining room. For a moment she stayed this way, standing, lost in mind, then.  
  
With a great flash of light, Crystal let break an earth-shattering scream. It was glorious and horrifying at the same time. It was beautiful like a phoenix's song yet heart tearing as a banshee's cry. With the flash, everyone threw up their hands to shield their eyes. The blindness lasted for a few moments, and then quickly died away.  
  
Slowly and cautiously, everyone lowered their hands and arms. They all looked up, expecting to see Crystal standing where they had last seen her, but she wasn't. Even Harry, Ron and Hermione had expected something different. They had envisioned this great, glowing creature. Someone of great radiance and power who had the voice of an angel yet eyes like a demon. For surely, when tapping into her power, Crystal would then appear to them as the Oracle of Prodigy, the greatest power in the universe. But she didn't.  
  
She was crumpled on the ground, the chains hitting their farthest extent. Her hair was thrown about and her face was hidden from them by the stone floor. There was no glow, nor any magnificent cloak about her. She looked nothing more than dead.  
  
"Leo, is she-," Harry started, confused and shocked. Leo shook his head.  
  
"Just wait," he told him, choking a little on his voice. It seemed to Harry that this sight distressed him. Minutes passed with no change in scenery. Harry was just about close to panic, when suddenly, Crystal moved.  
  
She suddenly flew up from her place on the ground, landing on her feet in silence. The chains tinkled eerily, sending a chill up Harry's spine; but that wasn't the worst of it. Her face had changed dramatically. She no longer looked like anything.normal. Her eyes were completely dark now, darkness so remote that it challenged even the blackness of light. Her face was pale and her hair was tangled and wild. And her lips were curved into a crazed smile, and that made the hairs on Harry's neck stand on end.  
  
"Oh, I've never felt this good in ages," she suddenly said, stretching her arms. Her voice was different; insane, unused and mad. It had a faint echo to it and it did not suit her at all. "What have I been missing out on?"  
  
Harry stood frozen in his place; and he could only imagine that Hermione and Ron were too. Leo seemed even more crestfallen at his sister's insanity and Dumbledore seemed more sympathetic than anything else. Then Crystal caught sight of them, and her blank gaze was irking.  
  
"To be alive is a glorious thing. I haven't been alive for quite some time," she said. Then she began to giggle madly.  
  
"Alright, she's there," Leo piped up. His tone was very dead. "Now then, this is the time for asking your questions. Just step up a little close to her, not too close so that she can reach you, but close enough. If she's not paying attention to you, request her as an audience. And know this: She cannot lie to you in this state. As her title as Wanderer, she is restricted from telling any living soul from the mortal world a lie. So do not fear that she is being dishonest. The only thing you need to worry about is how she will tell you the truth."  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione looked awkwardly at one another.  
  
"Go on then," Ron and Hermione urged Harry. "You go first."  
  
"Okay."  
  
He turned to the Oracle. She was leaning her back against the wall now, holding onto her chains and swaying from side to side, giggling. Harry took a step forward.  
  
"Crys-I mean, Wanderer.I request you as an audience," he said. He awaited her reaction.  
  
****  
  
Draco walked through the familiar stone corridors, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. The portal had left him cold and shivering, and he was very happy when it had closed up behind him.  
  
But now he had to find them; find them and tell them what happened. He could have waited where he was, but it would probably take them ages to find him; and he had to talk to them now. Silently, he sped up his pace, the sun from outside playing across his gray eyes.  
  
****  
  
"An audience?" Crystal asked, feigning dumb. "Why me as an audience? I should be asking you that, Harry Potter. To meet with someone so high in your rank is delightful. I am very pleased to meet-,"  
  
"Crystal," Leo interrupted, his voice strong and almost angry. "Stay within the subject." She silenced herself.  
  
"Er-alright," Harry stammered, trying to sum his courage. "Wanderer, I want to ask you something. That time when you came to me in school and placed the Cruciatus Curse on me, why did you do it? Why did you say that Ron and Hermione would.die.if they heard me?"  
  
Crystal's grin quickly dropped away as she stared hard at Harry. "Because," she said angrily, as if he should have known the reason for her actions all this time. "There will be a time in your late future that will call upon such an action. It will come, and when it does, you will be rendered helpless." Her smile crept back into place. "There will be so much pain for you, Harry Potter, and it will be intentional. And when that time comes, you will want to cry out in pain; in agony. But if you do, then your dear friends would hear you and come to your rescue. And in the situation that you would be in, it wouldn't be a good thing."  
  
"What?" Harry asked, fear apparent in his eyes. "What are you talking about? When will that time come? Did you see it as a vision?"  
  
She laughed. "Oh yes, Harry Potter, I saw it in a vision! You will be in pain and if you cry out, you will lead your friends to their deaths." She looked upward, one hand fiddling with a twirl of her hair. "I have foreseen it."  
  
"Then why did you apologize to me?" Harry demanded, momentarily forgetting to be frightened by her. Crystal suddenly looked down to him, her anger obvious.  
  
"What did you say?" she hissed.  
  
"Why did you apologize to me! You came to me afterward, and you were crying, and you said that you were sorry. Why did you say it?"  
  
"How dare you," she growled, narrowing her eyes at him. "How dare you speak such lies to an Oracle of Prodigy."  
  
"It's not a lie-," Harry started to say, but was cut off by her rage.  
  
"LIES!" she bellowed, launching herself at him. But her restraints held fast and she was stopped but inches away from him. "Dare you say such a thing to me, the Wanderer?! I know the risks of projecting my self, and I will deny anything you say about showing emotion to anyone; even to you!!!"  
  
She was struggling with herself, pulling on her chains and trying to reach Harry. Terrified, Harry backed away towards Leo, his eyes focused on Crystal.  
  
"What did I say wrong?" he asked the boy urgently. Glancing towards him, Harry noticed that he was very calm.  
  
"Oh, don't worry. She cannot break loose. It's just that she doesn't take personal insult lightly."  
  
"Insults?" Harry repeated. "When did I insult her?"  
  
"When you mentioned her apology."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Look," Leo started, turning towards him. "We may be the Oracles of Prodigy and Crystal may be the most powerful being in existence; but we still have rules that we have to follow."  
  
Harry stared at him. "How does that answer my question?"  
  
"Why do you think the Higher Being allowed Crystal to keep her ability of astral projection? Why didn't he just take that power away from her, saving maybe about a hundred victims from her?"  
  
Harry shrugged.  
  
"Because there were rules to it," Leo explained. "When she was in her projected state, Crystal couldn't get emotionally involved with people of the mortal world. Getting emotionally involved would mean it would narrow her physical mind down to that one person she is emotional about, and that leads to trouble. To stay in projection form, one must always have an open mind, free of all thought. If the mind is closed to one thing, then Crystal could be caught in the mortal world forever, deprived of her physical body."  
  
"Wow," Hermione whispered. She was behind Harry and Leo, standing with the Headmaster and Ron and listening to the entire conversation.  
  
"Yes, I know," Leo agreed. "And to say that she apologized would mean that she had forgotten that important rule. It's seen as an insult to her, being told that you disobeyed something as crucial as that. Believe though, she did do it, that I know; but in this state, she does not remember ever committing such an act."  
  
"I, who am Wanderer, forget such a fact?! Unheard of!" Crystal cried. She had ceased from fighting her chains and was now contented with standing just as far as they would let her.  
  
"Let it go, Crystal," Leo snapped at her, and Crystal quieted. "Proceed with the questions," he then said, waving off-handedly towards them. Harry looked over his shoulder.  
  
"Hermione, Ron?"  
  
His two friends glanced at each other, and then walked forward, so that they stood next to Harry.  
  
"What do you want now?" Crystal spat; but then her face suddenly broke into a menacing smile. "What is it that you wish to know?"  
  
"I wanted to know about my sister," Ron said. Harry looked at him and saw that it was taking every ounce of courage he owned to be talking to a fanatical and overly powerful person.  
  
"Your sister," Crystal repeated, slowly, saying the words so that they sounded more sinister than what was normal. "She is the seventh Weasley child, is she not?" She was backing up now, back towards the wall. Harry let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"Yeah," Ron answered.  
  
"Oh, a treasure, that one," Crystal told him, her words like rough silk; strong yet smooth. "She looks up to you, do you know that?"  
  
Ron looked slightly puzzled. "No she doesn't."  
  
"But she does!" Crystal contradicted, her eyes wide like a puppy's. "She loves you because you are her role model! You are her favorite brother and you are her closest sibling. But the question here is if you can return that kind of love."  
  
"Yes, I can," Ron protested. "This brings me to my next question. You came to me too, and it wasn't pleasant. You had hurt me, badly, and you said that-that if my sister saw me, she would die. Why did you tell me that? Why did you do that to me?"  
  
It seemed that Crystal's smile grew only wider, her dark eyes joyous with the information she knew. "For the same exact reason I came to Harry Potter. I have seen it, that in the future, there will be a time when you will be in peril; and the only one to help you will be your sister. But if you call to her and let her see you, then she will surely fall to her death.or as close to it as possibly." She then let out a dead laugh, her eyes never leaving Ron's face. "That will be a distressing time for you; that I am certain. For in that moment, the love you have for your sister and the love you have for your own welfare will be tested." Then the smile sudden fell from her face again, her eyes narrowing. "I hope you fail that test."  
  
****  
  
Draco turned at the exact corner, knowing precisely how many flight of stairs he would have to descend to reach his goal. In all his years, Draco was sure that he knew no other place as well as he knew this one. Sure he had spent practically all his life at his manor, but it wasn't the same magical feel as this place.  
  
Draco hurried on, hoping he had made the right choice and that this wasn't the biggest mistake of his life.  
  
****  
  
"Wanderer," Hermione started, stepping in front of a shocked Ron. "I have a question for you."  
  
Crystal looked at her, the grin once again in place. "Hermione Granger. The proud recipient of my Love Spell. You want to know about it don't you?"  
  
"No," Hermione stopped her. "I already know how and why you put it on me. You thought you were helping me with it; but that's not what I wanted to ask you."  
  
"Really?" the Oracle asked, faking extreme interest. "Well, pray tell, what is your question?"  
  
"Well," Hermione gulped. "The first time you came to me, you did something to me. You.you let me feel all these different emotions. It felt like all the emotions of the world-,"  
  
What little color that was left in Crystal's face drained away.  
  
"- and then you showed me something. First it was just you, and then it was you shackled to the wall, like you are now, crying out; and then I saw you lying on a stone floor, dead."  
  
"I saw something like that as well," Ron suddenly started, stepping out from behind Hermione to stand next to her. "But for me there was light; and you also showed me something strange. You were sitting somewhere-it looked like this place when I saw it-and it was falling apart around you, but you weren't moving."  
  
The smile had completely gone from her face.  
  
"What do they mean?" Hermione finished. The two stared at her, Harry standing behind both of them and waiting as well.  
  
Crystal looked horrified; horrified beyond all comprehension. Her eyes had grown bigger than ever and her face was a pasty white color. Her mouth was slightly open and her entire body was tensed up with shock. For a moment, Harry could have sworn the blackness of her eyes lightened just the smallest bit, but it had all gone away as a new emotion began to override the surprise. It was anger.  
  
"What did you say?" she muttered, her face already beginning to twist into a maddening snarl. "What did you say?"  
  
"Crystal, Wanderer.we just want the truth-," Hermione tried, but was cut off abruptly by the Oracle's rage.  
  
"Truth!?!" she yelled, slowly starting, once more, to fight her chains. "You wish the truth from me, yet you dare to announce such blasphemy?!"  
  
"Crysi, hold your temper-," Leo began, unconcerned; but then he was taken aback by his sister's disobedience.  
  
"Silence, boy! You are shamed by the action of bringing these frauds before me! You three mere mortals dare make such lies?!"  
  
"They're not lies," Harry told her, his brow furrowed in frustration. "They have seen the visions. Why would they make it up?"  
  
"Because it is unthinkable! I, the Wanderer, who was granted half of immortality, will die?! I, who have spent all my years striving to discover the half in which I am deprived, will die?! I, who will reign always as an Oracle of Prodigy, attempt to show pathetic human life forms my own downfall?! They are all LIES! I shall never die! I will live forever and take with me the lives of all mortals! I WILL NEVER DIE!"  
  
"But I saw it."  
  
"You saw nothing but your own twisted fate!" Crystal spat, pulling as hard as she could on her shackles. The stone in the wall cracked under the strain, making the three back away as quickly as possible. "I will have no death.no death, but forever life!!!" The chains were giving way, being pulled out of the wall that held them.  
  
"Crystal, be quiet with you!" Leo cried out, stepping in front of Harry, Ron and Hermione.  
  
"To death with you all!" Crystal screamed.  
  
"I said, BE QUIET WITH YOU!!!" And with that, Leo placed a hand on his sister's middle. A great blaze of dark blue light erupted from it, sending Crystal flying back into the wall. She was heading for it at top speeds, but suddenly stopped herself only centimeters from its surface. Leo looked angrier than fire and Crystal was colder than ice.  
  
"You hit me," she told him, her words dripping with venom.  
  
"I said," Leo retorted, hatred quivering in his words. "Be quiet with you."  
  
****  
  
Draco turned his final corner and saw it. It was the wooden door, the last one in the hallway. Hurriedly, he rushed towards it, mind reeling and pulse beating. Maybe he had made the wrong decision; maybe he just should have-  
  
No. What was done was done and now he had to live with the decision he had made. But there was a strange feeling in him about what he was doing, as if everything he was doing, he should not have been doing. It was hard to explain, but it was like he suddenly went into dream mode and was attempting what he shouldn't.  
  
****  
  
"There is something wrong," Crystal suddenly said, pressing her back against the wall and darting her eyes around herself. Leo was next to her, shortening the length of her shackles with a little too much strength.  
  
"What's wrong?" he snapped, securing the chains with a tug. Crystal winced a little, as her ankles and wrists were being cut by the metal.  
  
"There is something not right, boy," she told him, watching his as he rejoined the others. "Someone who is not right."  
  
"What are you going on about?" Leo demanded. Crystal glared at him.  
  
"Someone has stepped from their path."  
  
Everyone looked uneasily around.  
  
"Is that bad?" Ron asked.  
  
"For her," Dumbledore told him, pointing to Crystal. "It could be."  
  
"But I still have some things to ask her," Ron started, turning back to her and stepping forward once more. "You came to me, a third time, not too long ago. You showed me a dream; one that was similar to another Hermione had at my house. We were in this very dungeon, and you were shackled to the wall like you are now, and then something happened and I-." Ron gulped. "I think I died."  
  
Crystal did nothing in reaction save for the small cock of her head.  
  
"And then I think you left me something," Ron continued. "You left me the blood-stained clothes in my dream and this." He held up his hand to show the ring there, the intricate design setting off its perfect brown color. Crystal squinted at the ring, then smiled widely.  
  
"Yes, that is one of mine," she said to him.  
  
Ron was growing impatient. "But what did the dream mean? Why did you.you kill me in it?"  
  
"Perhaps I-," Crystal started but unexpectedly cut herself off by crying out in agony.  
  
"Crystal!" Leo cried, running to her. "Crystal, what's happening?"  
  
She was tossing her head side to side, throwing her body against the wall and screaming bloody mercy. Her manacles were blazing with the green light, the binding spell fighting to hold onto its prisoner.  
  
"Get away!" she yelled, breathing hard and rough. "Get away from me before I hurt you!!!"  
  
"Crysi, what's-,"  
  
"Damned souls, GET AWAY!" she cried. Leo sprang away, throwing out his arms to stop Harry from coming closer.  
  
"What's going on now?" Harry asked. Crystal had shut her eyes to the world, yelling out that they were burning horridly.  
  
"I honestly don't know!" was all the small boy could say. "Hurry, everyone huddle together; I don't want to risk anything."  
  
He gathered everyone behind him and then whispered something under his breath. A great light sprouted from him and then encircled their small group on what looked like a semi-transparent globe of water. For minutes, Crystal continued to scream, struggling to free herself of the chains and fighting to remain there as well. It was horrible to watch. She was being tortured beyond anything anyone could imagine and no one could do anything.  
  
She opened her eyes for the briefest moment, and shooting forth from them came the blast of canon and a jet of fire. It hit the watery shield hard, making Leo groan in an urgent way.  
  
"Leo-,"  
  
"It's okay, Harry. I didn't get hurt," he explained. "It's just that I haven't learned to use my strongest powers without having them take their toll on me. I'll be fine."  
  
"Will she be all right?" Hermione questioned, breathless.  
  
Leo could only look on, stunned and weary. "I don't know. I don't even know what's going on with her."  
  
And then everything went silent once more.  
  
**** Draco walked up to the door and then stopped. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He wasn't sure why he was nervous about being there; it was the Oracles who had gladly extended the invitation for him to stay.  
  
He cleared his head, hoping that there wouldn't be a lot of questions. Back in the dining room he had made the decision to stay in Enol, and the choice was only confirmed when he had reached for the doors and the portal closed up behind him. Now he would stay here, and there was no turning back after that.  
  
Then Draco quickly took a surprised step away from the door as there was an ear-splitting cry from behind it. Someone, it was either Crystal or Hermione, had been hurt in some way. On instinct, Draco was about to reach for the door handle and force it open when there was a series of cries and the heat of an immense fire flew at him through the cracks in the door.  
  
For a moment Draco had the idea to turn tail and run; but then the shouts of pain suddenly went away, leaving behind a dead silence. He hesitated for just a couple more minutes, and then he pushed himself forward with the last of his courage and opened the door, running into the dungeon room within it.  
  
For a second there was nothing, only his eyes trying to comprehend the person chained to the wall, three people standing near it, someone kneeling on the floor and another beside him before there was the greatest explosion of black light and everything was lost in the blinding darkness.  
  
****  
  
Crystal had instantly gone still, her cries disappearing immediately and her body falling limp against the wall. She hung there unmoving, her breath gone and the blood from her wrists make a tiny sliver down her arms.  
  
Just as quickly, Leo let fall the protective shield and fell to his knees, unable to run to his sister due to his own draining energy. Amazingly, it was Ron who stepped forward first.and then it was the dream all over again.  
  
****  
  
~Ron walked to her still form, still as death.  
  
Harry was somewhere behind him, frozen, unmoving, watching.  
  
Where was Hermione? She was over there, head tilted to the door. Were those footsteps she was hearing?  
  
Crystal, limp against the wall, head drooping and chest lost without the rise and fall of breathe. Exactly like the dream.  
  
Ron continued forward, knowing he shouldn't but unable to stop himself. He kept on in wonderment, her lifeless figure growing ever closer.~  
  
****  
  
It was a strange feeling for Crystal. It was like she was lost in a whole new world. It was all darkness, but she could see the people she knew in it. They were clad in white, gratefully, but their faces were hidden by a blur.  
  
One was walking towards her; it was definitely Ron, for it had the sense of him. Over to her left was Hermione, the small petite frame readable against the others. Behind Ron was Harry's form, outlined in a golden hue. Of course it would be, seeing that his position in the world was crucial to the balance of life. His aura gave off a warm glow; one that brought color to her cheeks and a sense of awareness to her mind.  
  
Kneeling on the floor was a figure bathed in shining blue and white light, with swirls of gold and silver around it. This was Leo. He was the simplest one to distinguish out of the group, for he shared that same presence that Crystal, herself, owned.  
  
Standing next to him was a tall man, plain white as Hermione and Ron, but with the smallest twinkle of purple light where his heart should have been. Ah, Dumbledore; he was so easy to pick out with his pure heart always in place.  
  
But why wasn't she able to look up and see everything for herself? She was not dead, that was simply impossible. So why couldn't she wake up? What was keeping her from opening her eyes and standing? It was nothing, just an overload of her foresight, no more. She had thought someone had strayed from their path, but when that did happen, she was always somewhat aware of it. So that couldn't have been the cause for her breakdown.  
  
She was just gathering her remaining energy to open her eyes when there was a sudden burst from the door beside her, and another figure entered, only this one was different.terribly, terribly different.  
  
He was clad in darkness, no glow, no radiance; only the haunting blackness of the night. He brought with him an immense cold, a shiver of terror that could make the blood run cold. If Harry had been all light and warmth, this being was the exact opposite; and he had an even worse effect on Crystal.  
  
It was like all her magic had gathered together, creating a power inside of her that scared her to the edge of sanity. It welled in her till she was sure her body would burst with its weight, and she would surely die if it didn't.  
  
Then her eyes snapped open, focusing on the first thing in front of her to release her power on: Ron. It hit him with the blow of thunder to the skies, making him fall to the ground, motionless. His blood was seeping out everywhere, and Hermione was at his side in a moment. Crystal thought that would be the end of it; that if she had unknowingly killed Weasley, then maybe she could spare the rest from her out of control powers; but it wasn't the end.  
  
There was a stab in her chest so painful it was enough to bring her to her knees, though her shackles stopped her. She wanted to close her eyes, for they were burning again, but something in her said otherwise. It was a deep, commanding voice; subtle yet gaudy, gentle yet strong.  
  
~Open your eyes and see what I have set before you~  
  
And she obeyed.  
  
Crystal opened her eyes and they fell upon the darkness of the new figure, standing in his shroud of evil. Then they darted to the crimson of Ron's blood flowing to the tips of her feet; and then to the golden glow that surrounded Harry, encasing him in a cloak of goodness.  
  
Then her whole body was alight with white fire and burning ice, swallowing everything bright, black light. It was power beyond any she had ever known, and it shattered the chains around her ankles and wrists, freeing her from all imprisonment. And then it was like her body was being lifted away, rising higher and higher into the air. She took in one quick gasp, and then she was gone, being whisked away by a roaring wind, a sun-clad figure at her side. 


	11. A Balance To All Things

Chapter Eleven ~  
  
A Balance To All Things  
  
"Oh my god, oh my god! Oh mercy, Heaven and Hell, Purgatory and Enol! Oh my god, oh my god!" Leo cried, practically running around the dungeon, hysterically. He was obviously panicking; and badly.  
  
When the darkness had subsided, him and Hermione had found Crystal and Harry gone, Ron unmoving and bleeding to death on the floor, and Dumbledore, quite to the horrified and shocked reactions of Hermione and Leo, also lying on the floor, unconscious.  
  
No one had noticed that Draco was also in the room.  
  
Hermione shook her head, trying to sort out her thoughts, shut out Leo's panic and hold back her tears. First things had to come first, and though she could do nothing for Harry at the moment, she could help Ron.  
  
"Ron," she whispered, leaning over him, his pale, cold face and blood- soaked clothes giving her no reassurance. "Ron, are you there?" Her voice was strained and choked, but she couldn't risk falling into hysterical sobs. He could still be alive.  
  
"Oh mercy, this has never happened before!" Leo wailed, hopping from one foot to the other, scared beyond tears. "I don't know what's happened!"  
  
"Ron, listen to me," Hermione continued, gritting her teeth in attempts to stay calm. "You have to be alive. You cannot die on me. You have to fight this and stay here. Don't die on me!" She was gripping his shoulders, her fingers trembling. But Ron only remained quiet, his eyes closed and his body still of any breathing or heartbeat.  
  
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to accept any of this. "Ron, damned soul, get back here!" she practically screamed, unable to hold her tears. "I've already been stripped of one best friend and I don't want to be deprived of another! You have to live-just please live." She waited for a moment staring into his silent face, not even aware that Leo had quieted down and was watching her in apprehension. When Ron didn't answer her plea, she let her head fall onto his chest. "Don't do this to me," she muttered. "Don't do this to me, Ron. Don't you dare do this."  
  
He remained motionless as death.  
  
Hermione slowly looked up, her fingers closed into fists. She looked up into Leo's face, her eyes set and determined and her tone strong, despite the present circumstances.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" she demanded, sounding nothing like Hermione at all. "Why won't he listen to me and wake up?"  
  
"Hermione, I'm sorry but.I'm afraid he's-,"  
  
"Don't give me that!" she retorted, slamming her hand into the stone floor, angrily. "He's still alive, I know he is! Now get him some help or else."  
  
"It's useless. He's gone, and he won't be coming back." Leo had temporarily lost his panic to replace it with certainty. "Hermione, Ron is dead."  
  
She sprang to her feet, the skirt of her dress soaked in Ron's garnet blood. "How can you say that?! You're an Oracle, one of the most powerful beings in the entire cosmos. You can save him!"  
  
"I can't save anyone who is dead," he told her.  
  
"Your magic-,"  
  
"No amount of magic can bring back the dead. No spell, no incantation, nothing." The small boy looked sadly at her. "I'm sorry."  
  
"No! You're not trying hard enough!" Hermione cried, falling back down towards Ron. "You're not trying hard at all." She bent her head to his once more, her tears falling like gems onto his face. "Ron, listen, because I know you can hear me. I want you to come back, now! Just listen to me for once, okay? Don't be so hung up on proving me wrong all the time; just came back. Come back now."  
  
And to her utter amazement, Ron's blue eyes snapped open and he drew in a fast and rapid breath.  
  
"Hermione!" he gasped, his hand snatching her wrist and squeezing hard.  
  
"Ron!" she exclaimed, joy and relief flooding through her. "Ron, you're alive!"  
  
"Barely," he muttered, trying to calm his own breathing. His chest then heaved and he coughed on the sudden air rush. "Hermi-," he tried to say. "-.help me."  
  
"Yes, yes of course I will. Oh Ron.just hold on, alright?" Then her head snapped up. "Leo, can you help him now?"  
  
"Yes, I can!" the boy exclaimed. "But not here; sorry, but it was Crystal who knew the healing spells, not me. But I can save him. Oh god, I think I can save him." A smile spread across his face. "Alright, this is what we've got to do."  
  
He hurried over to their side. "I need to get him to the lake room. The water there is sacred water; holy water. Its purity is ancient and can heal any mortal wound. I need to get him there." Ron let out another scream as his blood continued to flow.  
  
"What's going on with him?" Hermione asked, holding onto his hand.  
  
"He had a blow to the head," Leo said, bending down near Ron and checking him. "And not just there either. He's hurt real bad in the back; it looks like Crystal blasted away half his body!"  
  
Hermione looked stunned. "And he's still alive?"  
  
"Yes. Yes, his heart's beating strong; he's just losing a lot of blood. A fighter, this one is," the boy told her. "Now, we need to get him to the lake room; and fast."  
  
"How?" she asked. Ron's grip tightened as another wave of pain swept over him and she clasped her other hand to his. "Moving him would be too dangerous."  
  
"We don't need to," Leo began to explain, talking very fast now. "I know how to teleport. No, not like Apparating, but different. It's an Oracle thing. But I can only take one person with me. I'll teleport with Ron to the room and you'll have to run there yourself. Got that?"  
  
"What about Dumbledore?" Hermione brought up, looking over to the Headmaster. "What do we do with him?"  
  
"He's fine," Leo said, only glancing back. "It's like he went into some deep sleep. I'll come back for him later. But for now, let's help Ron."  
  
Hermione nodded and stepped back as Leo laid his hands on Ron's chest, his breathing terribly uneven.  
  
"See you in a bit," the Oracle said, and then his body and Ron's rippled, and they were gone in a flutter of blue and white.  
  
Hermione took a moment to close her eyes and breathe deeply, her hands shaking. Ron was alive. Then she opened her eyes; her sight immediately falling onto Dumbledore's figure lying on the ground. She walked over to it, hoping Leo was right and that the Headmaster hadn't been hurt. But when she reached him, she could do nothing but smile. His eyes were closed and he was smiling, breathing deeply and perfectly fine. Only Dumbledore.  
  
"You mean he fell asleep after all that?" came a cool and easy voice from her behind her. Hermione whirled around only to see the last person she ever thought to be there. Okay, not the last person, but it was very close to it and it did shock her to see him there.  
  
"Malfoy?!" she blurted out, her eyes growing wide.  
  
"Present," he said, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow. "So, is he dead or what?" he asked, nodding his head to Dumbledore.  
  
"No, he's fine what are you doing here?" she demanded, jumbling her words together. "You're supposed to be on your way home!"  
  
Draco really didn't have an answer to this, as he didn't know the answer either. He resolved to nothing but a shrug.  
  
"What happened here? I mean, I saw the number done on Weasley. Man, I was a little doubtful there myself for awhile; I mean, what would life mean for me if I didn't have him to push around, ay? But where's Potter and that Tiara girl? What have you people been doing?"  
  
Hermione blinked at him. "Okay, I'm going to pretend you didn't just say all that because it was incredibly cruel to mock people when their either dying or stuck in a very distressing moment. But what are you doing here?! Never mind, I don't have time to listen to your excuses."  
  
"Don't have time for me?" Draco asked. He knew he was treading on thin ice, but he couldn't help but poke at people when they were down. Kicking, no; he would never do that. It was against his own honor and pride. But there was nothing wrong with poking. "What could be more important than me?"  
  
"I hate you," was all Hermione said to him before running past him and out the dungeon.  
  
"I can live with that," he replied, following her out the door. He pursued her throughout the tower, making sure he ran a little behind her in case she lost her head again and shot a spell at him. They both had been running for some time when Hermione acknowledged his presence.  
  
"Why are you following me?" she asked, running up their last flight of steps before they hit the fifth floor.  
  
"Well, it's not like you've been stopping me," Draco told her as he hurried through the door she was holding open for him.  
  
"I have more decency than that," she retorted, starting up again and flying down the corridor. She reached the door she was aiming for and threw it open, Draco coming up behind her.  
  
Ron was in the room, lying near the water's edge and jerking every now and then due to the pain. Leo was turned away from him, leaning over the lake itself. When he heard the door opening he turned around.  
  
"You're just in time," he said hurriedly. "Take care of him for a minute, would you?"  
  
"Of course," Hermione answered, running in and falling to Ron's side. "How are you feeling?" she asked him gently.  
  
"Not.that.great." he managed to get out. He twitched a little, starting up the blood flow again; the grass under him was changing from emerald green to ruby red. "Just kill me now." he muttered.  
  
Hermione became stern. "Don't say that," she commanded. She looked up to Leo who had straightened and was turning to them. He was holding the silver basin again, and it was filled once more with the clear water.  
  
"Stand back," he told her. She did, stepping away to stand next to Draco.  
  
Leo knelt down softly next to Ron. Then he began to gently pour the water onto him, starting at his head and then going down till he had drenched his entire body in the sacred water. The blood on the ground disappeared instantly and his clothes were relieved of any stain that requested otherwise. Ron's breathing was still rapid, but at least he didn't look as bad with the mess gone.  
  
Hurriedly, Leo turned away to refill the basin, and then proceeded to cover Ron with the water.  
  
"It's an ancient magic," he explained, drenching Ron for the third time. "The first time cleanses, the second time heals and the third time calms." And as if on cue, Ron's rapid breathing quieted down and his clenched fists were relaxing. "There," Leo said, smiling faintly as he stood back up. "He will live; and for very long, I might add. He now has the holy water within him."  
  
"Ron," Hermione exhaled, dropping to his side for the millionth time. "Ron- ,"  
  
"Hermione, where's Harry?" he asked her, his words drowsy and his eyes beginning to close. Hermione bit her lip, not knowing how to answer him.  
  
"Um." she stammered, but he had fallen away to sleep before she could say another word.  
  
Leo set down the basin at his feet, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. "Don't fret, he's fine. He's just resting. You can't exactly blame him, though. I mean, he was very close to death; and he lost a lot of blood."  
  
"Is there a place we can put him where he can heal properly?" Hermione asked, looking down into her friend's face and brushing aside his ginger hair.  
  
"Yeah.there's an infirmary here. I think it's on the twelfth floor, somewhere. We don't really use it; it's just kinda always been there. But I'll find it, with my teleportation. We'll put both Ron and Dumbledore there for now. Hey, what in blazes are you doing here?" He had finally caught sight of Malfoy, though his interrogation wasn't as severe as Hermione's. He was very tired and needed rest on his own time. "Oh never mind, we'll figure that out later."  
  
He walked away for a little bit, towards the cherry and apple trees. Draco watched him pick the blossoms for awhile before his gaze fell back to Hermione. It seemed that she was completely oblivious to the rest of the world for that split moment in time. It was Ron who was everything to her now; he owned all her attention. She was holding his hand, brushing her own through his hair and smiling gently. He remained sleeping, but his grip tightened in hers and she smiled even brighter.  
  
"These will help him recover," Leo said, coming back to the group and dropping his armful of small flowers into the basin. "But I've got nothing to help Dumbledore. As far as I'm concerned, he's just sleeping like nobody's business."  
  
"You should get him," Hermione said, standing up and reluctantly letting go of Ron's hand. "But bring this one up to the infirmary first. We'll meet you there."  
  
Leo nodded, handing the basin over to Hermione. He closed his eyes for a bit, said to them, "It's on the twelfth floor, alright," and then laid his hands on Ron again and disappeared in his blue and white light. This time, Hermione did not stall, but quickly walked out of the room, the basin under her arm and Draco right behind her.  
  
For awhile they walked in silence, for there was no need for rush now as both were very tired. But then Draco broke the silence with a question of his own.  
  
"So.have you and Weasley got a thing going on?" he asked, looking straight ahead. Hermione looked up at him, confused.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well," he began, shrugging. "That was a pretty intimate moment back there, if you ask me. I mean, if I were Weasley I wouldn't be complaining, but what's your perspective?"  
  
Hermione just continued to look at him in a very puzzled manner. "What do mean? My friend was close to death and now he's alive. What would you have expected me to do, say hurray and then be on my way?"  
  
"I didn't say that, but it was intense, you can't deny that. It was like you love him or something."  
  
"Well of course I do," Hermione told him. Draco looked caught off guard. "Look Malfoy," she started. "There's no rule that says that you have to be in love with someone to care that deeply about them. I don't want to marry Ron, goodness knows he's not the easiest person to get along with; but I do love him very much, and I was devastated back there when I thought he could be dead."  
  
"You really care that much for each other?" Draco blurted out, a little in disgust and a little in admiration.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"But.he's Weasley. He's not even a relative of yours, let alone your boyfriend or anything. He's just.you're friend."  
  
Hermione stopped walking, an astonished yet amused look on her face. "Are you really that narrow-minded, Malfoy?" Draco just stared at her. "Honestly, one of these days, I'd really like to know how the world looks from your point of view, because it obviously is not how everyone else sees it." She shook her head at him and proceeded onward, Draco walking behind her again and remaining silent for the rest of the journey.  
  
****  
  
It was already sunset, and Hermione had just spent the rest of the very long day sitting in the infirmary; Ron's sleeping hand in hers. He had already been put into bed when she and Draco first entered the room. Leo had used a little bit of his magic to change his wet clothes into warm, dry ones, and had made him as comfortable as possible.  
  
"Here," the boy had told her, snapping his fingers and having a cushy armchair appear out of no where. "You can sit here with him until he wakes up. I'll be back with Dumbledore in a little bit." And then he had teleported out of there, leaving Hermione with a dozing Ron and a quiet but conscious Malfoy.  
  
Her first act after Leo had left was to set down the basin filled with flowers and check Ron over. She felt around his head and back, glad that there were no wounds, let alone scars to speak of. The color was quickly coming back into his cheeks and his breath was coming in deep and steady. Sighing, Hermione fell back into the armchair, her hand never leaving Ron's.  
  
For awhile she forgot that Draco was there, but then the sudden awareness that she wasn't alone hit her and she turned around.  
  
The infirmary was very large, adopting the shape of a semi-circle. It had several beds lining the curve and a bedside table next to each one. Spread throughout the room were three high, glass-paned windows. They let the morning sun in and illuminated the otherwise lightless room. Draco was standing at one of these windows, looking out over the forest, his hands in his pockets and his shoulder leaning against the pane.  
  
"So, are you going to tell any of us what you're doing here and why you're not back at school?" she started, breaking the silence. Draco kept looking out the window.  
  
"Not really, no," he answered. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.  
  
"Well then, if you won't tell us of your own free will than I guess I'll have to demand it out of you," she said with not much of a threat to back it up for fatigue was sweeping over her, fast. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Looking out the window."  
  
"You know what I mean."  
  
Draco tilted his head a little, trying to see something out of his range of sight. "I don't know."  
  
"Malfoy, what are you doing-,"  
  
"I said I don't know!" he told her, with all sarcasm gone to be replaced with honesty. "I just didn't go."  
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "Are you telling the truth?"  
  
"What do you think?" Draco suddenly snapped; but then caught himself afterwards. "Yeah, I am."  
  
For a moment Hermione was silent, not knowing what else to say; and before she could, there was the glow of blue and white light and Leo appeared, standing next to the bed beside Ron's, Dumbledore materializing on the bed as well.  
  
"Nothing will wake him up!" Leo said, a small smirk of surprise stealing across his face. "It's like he's purposely ignoring me."  
  
"Did he get hit with the aftermath of the Killing Curse that hit Ron?" Hermione suggested, leaning over her best friend's body to get a closer look at the Headmaster.  
  
"Nope," Leo informed her. "He has no indication that any spell hit him. It was like he just lay down and.slept. I swear he can hear me though, and he's just ignoring me."  
  
"Seems like the thing an old goat like him would do," Malfoy muttered to himself, but there was no hint of an insult in it.  
  
"Where are you going now?" Hermione asked, as Leo's body began to ripple and dissolve into light; he stopped when she called him.  
  
"I'm going to find out what happened to Crystal and why she's not here; and where Harry went as well." He said all this as if it were the obvious answer. "My sister has all the information I need in her room. I know that what happened seems familiar to me; I know it was an ancient magic, like the water. I'm just not sure what it is. But I guess I'll be pulling another all-nighter with this one."  
  
He looked terrible; much worse than what Ron looked right now. His eyes were out of focus and his hair was thrown this way and that. He looked a sickly pasty color and he was sweating, despite the continuous coolness that filled the entire tower. His breathing was very fast and his shoulders were slumping, like his body was too heavy for him.  
  
"Leo, you looked terrible," Hermione told him. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Fine! I feel fine," he retorted, backing away as she stood up and began walking to him. "I 'm just a little hot, that's all!"  
  
Knowing a liar when she saw one, Hermione ignored his excuses and pressed her hand to his small forehead.  
  
"Leo! You're burning up! What happened to you?" she exclaimed.  
  
"It's nothing, nothing. It's just.conjuring up a shield to stop my sister's powers can take a lot out of you. And when she hit it, it was like a blow to me as well. Don't worry, I'll be fine!" But he greatly contradicted himself by falling into a coughing fit.  
  
"Leo.Leo!" Hermione cried, patting his back and trying to help him breathe. "Are you sure you'll be okay? Has this ever happened before?"  
  
"Do you mean, have I ever used my shield before?" he gasped; Hermione nodded her head. "Then.no. At least, not to cover such a group before. If you mean, has Crystal even thrown a blow at me like that." Hermione nodded again. "Then that's a no too. She's never hurt me before. Sure she's deceived me, screamed at me, forgotten about me and all that other stuff; but never has she ever hurt me. Now I know why people fear her."  
  
Hermione glared at him.  
  
"Alright, I know why people fear her; it's just I never knew it first hand."  
  
"Leo," Hermione said, dragging the reluctant boy to the bed next to Dumbledore's. "I may not be Madam Pomfrey, but I know when someone is sick; and you look like a fate worse than death."  
  
"Don't you hate when she's right?" Draco asked, as Hermione shoved the little boy into the bed. "I know I do," he added, not bothering to lower his voice, earning himself a look of death from one of them and a look of laughter from the other.  
  
"You're not helping," Hermione told him, pulling the covers up and around Leo.  
  
Draco shrugged. "Do I ever?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then there you go," he replied.  
  
"But you could," Leo suddenly started, sitting up. "I need you do something for me."  
  
"I wouldn't depend on him," Hermione said under her breath, looking away. Hermione never said anything under her breath.  
  
Draco stood up straighter. "Yeah, sure. What is it?"  
  
Hermione looked flabbergasted.  
  
"I need you to go down to the kitchens and make stew. Specifically, a vegetable stew. I also need you to take that basin filled with blossoms with you. Put them into the concoction as well and let them simmer for four hours and then letting it cool for two. Then bring it up, because it's meant for Ron. They'll help him recover. Do you have all that?"  
  
"From the moment you spoke them," Draco assured. He walked over to where Hermione was standing.  
  
"You're actually going to do everything he said?" she asked him as he reached around her to the basin behind her.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
She furrowed her brow. "But it will help Ron."  
  
Draco just walked over to the door, turned around, said "That can't be helped," and then closed the door behind him.  
  
Now Hermione was in the same armchair she had been in that morning. The whole day had passed her by, and she had spent the entirety of it either sleeping or watching over the three men technically under her care. It wasn't a bad thing, taking care of them all; and it wasn't exactly hard, considering the fact that they were all asleep. But she had to admit, it did get boring. Though Leo had protested against staying in bed one more second, he quickly fell into dreamland once Draco shut the door behind him.  
  
So for the past nine hours Hermione had been left in silence. She wanted to at least do something, walk around the tower to stretch out her legs; but she didn't want to leave the infirmary in case Ron woke up. She wasn't exactly sure about Dumbledore.  
  
But the thing about the silence that got to her was the fact that she now had time to worry about Harry. Now that Ron was all right, what had gone down with Harry? Trying to put everything together, Hermione did a small recap in her mind; but all she could remember was seeing Crystal suddenly look up, Ron fall back from the blow, and then the blinding black light. She had already been at Ron's side when everything came back into view.and Harry was already gone.  
  
"Where is Malfoy?" she asked no one, frustration apparent. The sun had already slipped past the infirmary windows and in a few more hours darkness would consume the place. Hermione looked around, but there seemed to be no lamps or anything of the sort in the room.  
  
"Touch the globe," Leo's sleepy voice said, and Hermione hurried to the glass orb in the wall to obey him. Immediately the room lit up as if with thousands of candles, though where the light came from, she had no idea.  
  
"What are those things?" she asked the boy, glad that there was someone to talk to.  
  
"The orb things in the walls? Oh, those are basically the main frame's of our tower, to put it in muggle terms." He grinned at her. "It's like a remote control to the magic in this place. There are all kinds of spells and enchantments here, and my sister and I have to have some way to control them all."  
  
"Feeling better?" she asked, sitting on the windowsill next to his bed.  
  
"Very much so," he replied, sitting up. "Thanks for making me rest, it helped a lot. You're an only child, aren't you?"  
  
She nodded. "Yeah, only me."  
  
"Too bad," the boy groaned, working out his stiff neck. "You'd be a great sister."  
  
Hermione grinned thankfully at him. She had to admit that there seemed to be a special charm to this little boy that could make anyone like him; including Draco. He was just so innocent and honest that one couldn't help but love him.  
  
"Where's Draco Malfoy?" he suddenly asked, looking around the room. "Has he been back yet?"  
  
"No," she answered, looking toward the still closed door. "I've been wondering that same thing all day."  
  
****  
  
Malfoy looked all around the hallway, making sure no one was there. Then again, the only people who were here were either out of commission or watching over those who were out of commission. Hoping that this was the right thing to do, Draco pushed open the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him.  
  
He looked around the room, disappointment claiming his face; he had expected Crystal's room to be a little more.well, just a little more.  
  
The only reason Draco had come to the Tiara girl's room was because of Leo. He had mentioned that the answers to what had happened would be in his sister's room, so this was where he went. He really wasn't sure why he was in here, why he wanted to help anyone and why he had just cooked dinner for Weasley; but he couldn't help it. It was like he was trying to prove himself. Not to Leo; it was like the kid saw something that no one else saw, not even him. He saw Draco as a good guy; someone who was fit to be a role model. He didn't have to prove himself to Leo.  
  
But he did have to prove himself to Granger. Granger and the other two thirds of the Golden Trio.  
  
She thought he was useless, a flake.a coward. Well, he wasn't a coward now, and he would sure as hell love the look on her face when he discovered what had happened in the dungeons. But would he do it, he hadn't the slightest clue.  
  
He had seen Crystal come into the room countless times over the past two days, and by the way she usually dressed (very richly and stately), Draco suspected that her room would look more or less like a queen's chambers. It wasn't even close.  
  
There was barely anything in the room; just a four poster bed and a table against the opposite wall. The bed was dressed in white and the hangings on the two windows on either side were white as well. There was but one oil lamp on the table and a smooth lock of hair tied with a white ribbon, but otherwise, nothing more. How was he supposed to find the information he needed when there was nothing in here to get it from?  
  
****  
  
"You should go and get him," Leo said absently. Hermione looked up at him from the window. He was slouching a little in bed, three small balls of green light hovering in front of him. He cocked his head at them, and then waved his hand at them. They began to dance in front of his face, making patterns with their light and looking like little fireflies.  
  
"Look for who.Malfoy?" she asked. He nodded.  
  
"I mean, I know that the stew would take long, but this is ridiculous. You should go and find him." And Hermione could have sworn that she saw a grin barely flash against his lips and the same twinkle of amusement in his eyes that made Dumbledore so unforgettable.  
  
"Was that a smile or am I losing my eyesight?" she asked, grinning as Leo shook his head and squirmed in his seat.  
  
"Could have been. But I'm only happy that Ron is alright," he quickly added, covering up. She only narrowed her eyes at him.  
  
"But I don't even know where to start. This tower is far too large-,"  
  
"Third floor, first door you'll see to your right, directly across the second window on your left and it'll have a white door knocker on its front," Leo said, all in one breath. Hermione stared at him. Feeling her awkward gaze, Leo tore his eyes away from the lights and looked at her innocently. "Just a hunch," he muttered.  
  
"I'll bet," she replied, standing up and smoothing her skirt.  
  
****  
  
"You've got to be joking me," Draco grumbled in frustration. "There's nothing here!"  
  
He had been scouting about Crystal's room in attempts to find anything that would lead him to the information he needed; but it had all been in vain. There was nothing more than the table and bed and that was it. But then why would Leo say that the information was in here if it wasn't? He did not seem the type to lie about anything.  
  
"Come on, Draco, concentrate," he told himself. He went to the middle of the room and relaxed. "Do what father taught you to do." It seemed that his personal encouragement was helping.  
  
With his mind clear and his senses perked, Draco began to once again check the room. He searched the bed and the floors, his entire self sensitive to anything unusual. When he got to the walls, he saw something.  
  
There was the thinnest, tiniest little seam in the wall. Draco, remarkably noticing this, traced its outline with his fingers tips, his hands following the shape of a door.  
  
"This has got to be it," he muttered to himself; and if it wasn't, then he'd certainly feel stupid. As he backed away, his eyes now accustomed to the discreetness of the line, it seemed to stand out more against the gray, stone wall. But he wasn't sure how to open it.  
  
Looking around the room for something to help him, Draco's eyes fell on the globe embedded in the wall by the door. Sure, it was a wild guess, but it was like these stupid little orbs practically controlled this tower. Not exactly knowing what he was doing, Draco walked up to it. If there was an incantation or spell or word that would command the globe to do his bidding, he wasn't sure. He didn't even know he did it. He had simply placed his palm on the smooth glass when the smoke inside of it swirled and the seam in the wall shone with blue fire.  
  
Then there was a sudden ring of bells and the seam had disappeared to open into a doorway. Surprised at his own luck, Draco hurried forward and stopped dead in its entrance, caught by amazement.  
  
Before him stood a grand room, one that looked much too large to be accommodated in the tower, even though the tower itself was immensely huge. The ceiling rose up into darkness and the walls shone with a sort of golden radiance. But there were shelves upon shelves upon shelves lining the walls and filling the empty spaces between them. Upon these shelves were thousands, maybe millions of different objects: books, telescopes, wands, gems, figurines, magical based knick knacks, globes, crystal balls- everything! The floor was paneled wood that was darker than rosewood and the windows across the far wall were hung with gold draperies.  
  
"What-did-you-do," someone asked slowly from behind him. Draco spun around to see Hermione standing there, mouth hung open and eyes gazing, fascinated, at the room in front of her.  
  
"I pushed the orb thing," he said dumbly as she slowly walked past him and into the room.  
  
"Why were you in here in the first place? You should have gone straight back to the infirmary."  
  
"I wanted to-help-Leo out by getting whatever it was he wanted to get from this room. You know, to help him figure out what happened." Draco felt weird saying this, as the words 'wanted', 'help', and 'I' were never used in the same sentence for him before.  
  
"Well," Hermione said, pulling together her dignity once more and turning around to smile at him. "Looks like you've succeeded somewhat." She looked around the room once again. "So this is the great library Crystal hinted about. She wasn't lying either; this place is tremendous!"  
  
Draco couldn't help smirk at her. "Out of everyone I've ever met, you're the only one who could get excited about this many books," he told her. She resolved to just ignoring his comment.  
  
"We better get started then," she said, walking over to the nearest book shelf and inspecting everything on it.  
  
"Get.started?" Draco asked. She nodded.  
  
"You came here to help Leo, right? Well, I want to help Leo as well; so I guess we might as well help each other." And with that, she blocked him out completely and focused all her attention to what was at hand.  
  
****  
  
"Maybe if we knew what we were looking for then this wouldn't be so hard!" Draco cried out, slamming the book he was skimming through closed. He was sitting on the top step of a ladder, searching through books and trying to figure out the functions of all the different items for the past two hours.  
  
"I have to admit, this is rather difficult," Hermione responded from the table below him, following suit and closing her book. "But Leo said we would know it when we find it." She looked up at Draco. "Do you want me to tell you what happened again?"  
  
"No," he answered, waving an impatient hand at her. "I got it the first time." He twisted around to face the shelf and began fiddling with what looked like a very fancy Sneakoscope. "This is getting boring."  
  
Hermione scowled at him. "Hey, you came here of your own free will. I was actually sent here, believe it or not."  
  
"Well, you like books."  
  
"Enough, Malfoy," she shot back, getting up and walking to the end of the bookshelf. Draco watched as she inspected the shelf, picking up a tiny eight-point star crafted from crystal and twirling it through her hands. She continued to look through the books, her eyes darting from book title to book title. "I can't be sure, but I also have that feeling that says that I'll know what it is we're looking for when we find it."  
  
Draco grunted and leaned back against the bookshelf, looking up into the darkened ceiling. "Do you have the feeling yet?"  
  
"No. I'll get it when I'm certain I've come to it."  
  
"Do you have it now?"  
  
"No."  
  
"How about now?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Now?"  
  
"Malfoy!"  
  
"Sorry," Draco muttered, leaning forward again and resting his elbows on his knees. "But this is getting incredibly boring." He turned his vision back to where Hermione had been but he saw only empty air. She was gone. "Granger?" he called, leaning forward. She did not answer. "Granger, where are you?" he demanded, with much more urgency this time. It worried him that she did not respond, as so many strange things could happen in this place and one never knew where they could end up.  
  
"I've found it!" she suddenly exclaimed, her voice echoing around the high- ceiling.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Malfoy, I've found it! Just come here, you've got to see this."  
  
As quickly and as safely as he could, Draco slid down the ladder and landed catlike on the floor. He darted around the bookshelves, glancing down each aisle, searching for a sign of brown hair or flowing, white skirts.  
  
"Where are you?" he asked, annoyed, as he ran down another row of books.  
  
"Follow the sound of my voice!"  
  
He did, darting around edges and making sure he didn't hit the shelves; he would have to do a lot of explaining if he broke any of the valuable objects in this room. But as he swerved around the last edge he came close to running Hermione over. She was near the wall, bending down to gaze at a lower shelf.  
  
"Come look at this," she said, beckoning him towards her. He did so, following her gaze and laying his eyes upon what looked like a fairly large, clear glass box. It had no seam for an opening and there wasn't even a lock or anything. It looked rather.dull.  
  
"What is it?" he asked her, bending down as she pulled out the box and placed it on the floor in front of them.  
  
She shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm not sure, but I have that feeling. This is what we've been looking for." She looked up at him only to see his usual 'are-you-sure-that-you're-not-making-a-mistake' look.  
  
"This-box-is what we're looking for? This? But, Granger.it's just that, a box." He knelt down beside her and poked it. "Are you sure?" he asked, a little desperately, hoping she was wrong for once. How could all their answers be in a box?  
  
"It's in here, I know it," she muttered, examining the glass cube all over. She heaved it onto her lap and began running her fingers over its smooth surface.  
  
"Hermione," Draco said, using her first name in attempts to catch her attention. "This thing is made of glass."  
  
"I'm aware of that," she replied, off-handedly. Draco sighed heavily, annoyed.  
  
"Hermione, this thing is made of *clear* glass. You can see inside it already."  
  
"I'm not blind, Draco," she answered, using an emphasis on his first name. "I can tell it's clear glass."  
  
"Then you can tell that there is absolutely nothing in this box!" he almost cried. She glared at him.  
  
"I can't believe you, a pureblood wizard, actually said that. There's a little thing called magic, Draco, which can make things appear differently than they already are." She bent her head down once again, examining the box. Scowling at the truth of her words, Draco leaned back against the shelves, lazily. "Are you not going to help?" Hermione demanded.  
  
"Yes," he replied. She shot daggers at him. "All right, all right; give it here then," he mumbled, sitting up and reaching for it. He laid his palm on what could be the top of the cube and then suddenly the glass box erupted into a blinding blue and white fire. With a yelp, Hermione pulled her hands away quickly and Draco threw his up, horrified.  
  
"What did you do?" Hermione exclaimed, springing to her feet.  
  
"Like I would know?" he shot back, flying to a standing position, both of their eyes glued to the small ball of pearl white and sky blue flames on the ground. No heat was coming from the flames, but as they slowly diminished, warmth swiftly filled the room. A small flash, and then the flames were gone, leaving behind a sparkling, radiant and glowing.  
  
"Book?" Draco sighed, looking incredulously at it. It lay peacefully at their feet; a leather-bound tome with gold lettering across its front. Hermione bent down to pick it up, shaking it out of habit and having some of the glow and sparkle fall off it. "Well, that's strange," Draco muttered. He moved a little so that he stood beside Hermione, staring awestruck at the book.  
  
"Y ceht neicna porp Latara itsyrc foe cigma gad losem it," Hermione said slowly, reciting the words that were on the front.  
  
"Nice title," Draco replied. "That's got to be one hell of a read."  
  
"I think it's in Ytineres; you know, Leo and Crystal's language. Though.when read, it doesn't sound exactly the same." She stared at the book in her hands for awhile before tucking it under her arm. "Come on; we better get this to Leo." Turning on her heel, Hermione walked swiftly down the aisle, Draco close behind her. When they reached the entryway and stepped through, there was a small sound of a bell and the magnificent room they had been in was hidden behind what looked like a flawless, stone wall.  
  
Without a word said to each other, both Draco and Hermione hurried out the door and up the many flights of stairs. They reached the twelfth floor and continued to the door that led to the infirmary, the setting sun casting their dancing shadows against the walls. They burst through the door, one right after the other, as the first stars of the night began peeking out through the sky.  
  
"You're back!" Leo exclaimed from his bed. "And about time, I must say."  
  
"We've found it," Hermione explained, walking forward. "I'm certain we've found what it is you're looking for." She held out the great tome to him, but his reaction wasn't the one she had expected. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he looked up at the both of them in small bewilderment.  
  
"Was this in a clear, glass box?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," both Draco and Hermione replied. Leo frowned.  
  
"Why didn't you just bring the box?"  
  
Hermione sat on the edge of his bed. "Because Malfoy opened it and then that book came out. The box disappeared, so we really couldn't bring it."  
  
"You opened it?" Leo asked, even more amazed. Draco and Hermione exchanged a puzzled look.  
  
"She just said that, kid," Draco responded.  
  
"But how?"  
  
"I really have no idea," he told him. "I just put my hand on it and then it burst into flames. Scared me half to death."  
  
"But you couldn't have opened it," Leo mumbled under his breath. "You're not me." He looked into the questioning look on Malfoy's face.  
  
"I know that," he responded. "Look, she brought you the book you were looking for, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then stop fretting and just open the thing." He fixed Leo with his gray eyes, not commanding him but silently asking him to just accept what had happened. As if hearing, Leo nodded.  
  
"The spell probably wasn't done right, then," he said, mostly to himself.  
  
"What spell?" Hermione asked, but Leo brushed her question away.  
  
"Never mind that. Now we have something else on our hands; this book."  
  
"Oh, yeah. About that," Hermione started, scooting forward a little to indicate something on the cover. "These writings on the front here are strange. They look more or less like your language; but if you say it, it sounds different. Like an older dialect."  
  
At this, Draco was actually impressed by Hermione. To know the difference between a modified and original language that you had only heard a few times and seen even less was quite amazing. Just another thing that Draco could admire and despise about her.  
  
"That's because it is," Leo explained. "This book is a journal of all the spontaneous prophecies that Crystal makes. You know, the ones that really have nothing to do with the mortals and all that stuff. I wrote down all that she said, and I am positive that she made a prediction of all of this years ago." He looked up at the two people staring intently at him. "We may find out a lot of answers that won't give us comfort." And Draco could practically feel the fear vibrating off the boy.  
  
****  
  
"Where are we?" Harry asked, his dead voice echoing off the expanse surrounding him. "What are we?" He could see nothing but darkness surrounding him; but through the darkness he could feel his body, weightless and floating.  
  
"We are in my mind," Wanderer replied, her voice steady and strong yet distant and soft at the same time. Harry couldn't see her in the vast void of darkness, but he was sure it was her, because no one else could be that intimidating in voice alone. "We are in a place forbidden to all humans. A place where the destiny and secrets of every living being is held."  
  
"Forbidden to humans?" Harry asked in his faraway voice. "But I'm human."  
  
"No, Harry Potter," the Wanderer replied, her words growing in volume as if she came closer. "You are more than just a human."  
  
Harry could feel his heart stop in his chest. "Wha-what did you say?"  
  
Then the darkness lifted just the smallest bit and Harry could feel solid ground under his feet. He looked around himself frantically, and his eyes found a figure standing away from him. She wore a dress of pearl white, no different than what was soon becoming habit to him. But in addition to her plain ensemble, she donned other things. What looked like a veil of sheer light was draped all around her, flowing out behind her and cascading down her arms to the ground. The band she wore on her forehead was a tiara made from silver laurel leaves, and her hair was brushed to shine and hung loosely down her back. Around her neck was a thin, silver chain with a round pendent reaching down to her torso.  
  
She did not move towards him, but her garments fanned out behind her as if caught in a wind. She definitely looked older then Harry ever imagined; an immortal being showing age. But she wasn't old.no, she would never be old. She wasn't gorgeous, but she wasn't horrid. She was beautiful beyond belief, and this made Harry's skin crawl.  
  
This was no longer Crystal Tiara, but the Wanderer.an Oracle of Prodigy.  
  
"What do you mean I'm not just human?" he asked again, his voice unusually steady. The Wanderer did not move, but when she spoke, it was as if her voice was inside of him and all around as well.  
  
"You were born into this world for a purpose, Harry Potter. The destiny chosen for you has yet to be revealed." Her eyes were dark pools of mystery, staring intently at him and through him.  
  
"I don't understand," he replied.  
  
"There is a balance to all things," she went on. "Everything has a purpose. The things I am about to tell you will be the answers to all your questions, but they will neither rid you of them nor give you assurance. They will merely create more questions, for which the answers are up to you to find on your own."  
  
Harry felt his stomach churn. "I understand," he replied. "Tell me then, Wanderer, why did Voldemort try to kill me when I was only a baby?"  
  
At this she cocked her head to him just the slightest bit; but that small movement sent a cold chill up Harry's spine, making him feel terribly unsafe.  
  
"You," she said to him. "Are the Balance."  
  
A puzzled silence followed this before she continued.  
  
"Since Time had begun, the Higher Being had to balance the world perfectly so as to preserve its life and its existence. Unto Himself, he had his own balanced partner: The Angel of Darkness. And into this world that He created, he needed two beings to come forth every next generation to balance the forces on the mortal plane.  
  
"Every next generation or so, two children are born into this world. The years are never the same, and the new balances come whenever they are needed. One child is born on the full moon, when light is all powerful and goodness reigns even stronger over evil. The child born on the full moon is the balance for Good.  
  
"But during the new moon, when the world is plunged into an unholy darkness and evil prowls in the shadows of all, the second child is born. This child is the balance for Evil. To each his own powers as to each his own battles. With the Balances in place, the universe is calm and though peace may not exist, no difference threatens the universe."  
  
Harry was looking at this heavenly being with severe confusion. Balances for good and evil? Full moons and new moons; Higher Beings and Angels of Darkness? He knew the magical world was a complex place where he was certain he'd never know all the secrets of, but this was becoming too much.  
  
"So what does that have to do with me?" he demanded. The Wanderer almost grinned at him.  
  
"Everything, child. For many years there have been no problems with the births of the children. Good chooses their Balance when the time is right, and Evil chooses theirs simultaneously to Good. But at one point, there was a problem that caused the entire world to turn over in mayhem.  
  
"In the last generation, the Balance for Evil was born on the new moon as planned. But when the full moon came, the child chosen for Good was not born. The balance was ruined. So for seventeen years the world was in silent turmoil; the forces of magic from all over going crazy with the same question: where was the Balance for Good? When he never came, the world prepared itself for darker days. For eleven years there was terror in both the wizarding world and the non-magical one. Death was everywhere and a black plague in the form of a human was spreading throughout the world. Evil was having its reign. For those eleven years the world had lost all hope; surrendering their lives to one man. Do you know whom of that I speak of?"  
  
"Voldemort," Harry answered, a little breathless. The Wanderer nodded ever so slowly.  
  
"Yes, it was him. The one named Tom Riddle before he fashioned himself a new name."  
  
For a moment, Harry couldn't breath. His head was swimming with a fear he wasn't sure he had ever felt before. Somewhere in his heart, though it was barely just a flicker of a thought, Harry had wondered if Voldemort was truly all evil; if he was actually a cold-hearted person with nothing but a vast shadow for a soul. He hadn't for a long time since first year, when he had come face-to-face with the Dark Lord. Voldemort had even said that there was no good or evil, only power. But now he knew it was a lie, and that evil was the reason for driving Tom Riddle to do everything he did. And it chilled the blood in Harry's bones knowing that evil as pure as that tried to kill him.  
  
"Do you wish me to go on?" she suddenly asked, noticing his stunned silence. Harry looked at her with his bright green eyes; a color so bright that it almost dimmed the darkness of her own.  
  
"Yes," he said, with a certainty that he could feel in his bones, or was that coming from her? "I want to go on."  
  
****  
  
"Oh god," Leo breathed, staring hard at the page open on his lap. "Oh god; she knew all of it. She knew absolutely everything."  
  
"What?" Hermione asked, looking up from Ron's sleeping face. For the last half hour while Leo read, she had resolved to watch her best friend as he slept. It was a little thing her and Harry shared. How many mornings had she woken up and sneaked into the boys' dormitory to find Harry dressed and ready for the weekend but Ron still dozing in dreamland? It was a special moment her and Harry did together, watch their best friend sleep. It was the Weasley appeal at work, they would say to each other, which made even a sleeping Ron so interesting.  
  
Leo jumped out of bed. "I don't even remember writing this, but here it is. Everything that happened today. But, how did she get the Balances in one room? We've got only one here," he said, more to himself then any other.  
  
"Translation?" Draco suggested from his seat on the window. But Leo didn't have time to give one.  
  
"Can't just yet, I need to be certain of something." And before either of them could get another word out of him, he snapped the tome closed and teleported out of the room. Hermione and Draco both stared at the spot where he had been. For a while they sat in comfortable silence, but then Draco stood abruptly and cleared his throat loudly.  
  
"I think I better go to my room," he said, earning a shocked glance from Hermione. "I'm not needed here any more." He started for the door.  
  
"Malfoy, stop," Hermione called, the force in her voice apparent. He stopped halfway.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
She stood up slowly. "We need to talk," she told him. At this, Draco gave an icy laugh.  
  
"Like we did last night? Sure, I'm up for another round. Just this time, when you try to blast me into oblivion, try not to aim for Weasley or Sleeping Beauty over here, alright?"  
  
"Don't mock me about that," she told him quietly. "You deserved everything you got."  
  
"Yeah, sure. You think what you want, I'll know what really happened, and we'll both have a happy day, alright?" He turned to leave but was stopped by the sudden pleading from behind him.  
  
"Why are you always so cruel?"  
  
It was like an automatic reaction, one he couldn't control. His heart hardened over, his face went blank and his voice grew deeper with scorn. He turned back around, very slowly, for he was about to stand up to the one person who could probably break him.  
  
"What do mean?" he counteracted, looking down at Hermione with nothing. For a moment she held his stare, a determined look flashing in her eyes. Then she bounded toward him, raising her hands. Draco had half the reaction to dodge the blow that might come, but he couldn't, for she placed both her hands on either side of his face and looked hard into his gray eyes.  
  
Surprised, Draco could do nothing but stare back.  
  
"Draco, you are the most cold-hearted and cruel person in the world," she said to him, slowly and strongly. "You are horrid and pitiless and Merlin knows so many other things. You are the absolute last person I would go to at a time like this." Draco could feel his heart ache unknowingly. "But despite all that," she continued. "There is something you have that I cannot bear for you to own; at least, not like this. I gave you something, Draco. Something I had no intention of bestowing on you. It's something I wish I could take back, but something that I can't. I gave you what I once gave both Ron and Harry, and I gave it without my own consent. You know own a part of my heart, and neither of us can turn away from that.  
  
"But now you have to learn to use it, because all you're doing now is hurting me. At one point I wanted it back, but now I'm certain I'd never find another to whom I wish to give it. I care for you now, Draco. A caring I knew only possible for those I could only love. I cared for you the moment I held you in my arms, when we sat in silence among the fallen. But now I need that same caring in return, I need you to replace the part of my heart which I gave you with a part of your own. Please, just do this one thing for me."  
  
She said all of this without a waver, no hesitation in her words and with eyes free of tears. There was nothing but determination in her words, and one that dug deep into Draco's hardened heart. For a moment he held her gaze, struggling with the words that were playing in his mind. But then he brought his hands to rest over hers, and he spoke his reply with all honesty to back it up.  
  
"I don't know caring like that," he answered, slowly pulling her hands from his pale face. "I don't know what it feels to love like that either." He took a step back, forcing himself to continue to stare into her brown eyes. For a moment, he could have sworn that she was going to burst into tears right then and there, and he would have no choice but to comfort her in some way. But what happened next took him so off guard that he took the time to be properly surprised, his eyes going wide and his body alight with stunned fire.  
  
In objection to his last statement, Hermione grew ever more strong-minded in her attempts to turn his ways around. She stepped forward, closing the space he had created between them. Her arms wrapped around his neck forcibly and she pulled him close to her in an embrace, his head falling onto her frail shoulder. She could almost feel the astonishment on his face, but that wasn't what mattered at the moment.  
  
"This is what it feels like, Draco," she practically cried, standing on tip- toe to reach his ear. "This is what it feels like to be loved. Of all the people whom you've ever crossed, trust me to know how to give someone the love they need. Do you feel this, Draco? Do you feel what it is like to be loved?"  
  
And he could. In her tiny embrace, with her arms on his skin and her hair in his face, Draco could feel it with an immense power. It was a feeling he had known only once before and it had come from her also. This was what she had done to him in the Entrance hall two nights ago, when tears of blood and souls in torment had plagued him to the edge of sanity.  
  
"You do feel it," she whispered to him. "I know you do. Now tell me this, can you return this same caring to me? To me and Ron and Harry? Can you give me back what I unknowingly gave to you?" She waited.  
  
And waited, and waited, and waited. But in that silence when she held him close, Draco said not a word. For a second, when her face was hidden from his view, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut in failed distress, angry at him for not being human in any way. Then she collected her composure and began to loosen her grip on his neck, lowering herself back to the ground and keeping her eyes down.  
  
"I guess," she started, fighting back the urge to hit him. "I guess not, then." She gave the same icy laugh that he had done moments before. "I guess that was no more than wishful thinking." Her hands almost left him when she was abruptly pulled back towards him.  
  
Draco had no other way of doing it, to show her that she was wrong for once, maybe twice, in her life. He snaked his arms around her waist her and brought her back to him, her head colliding with his chest.  
  
"You guessed wrong," he told her, staring up into the ceiling. "This time, you guessed wrong."  
  
****  
  
"But what does all this have to do with me?" Harry asked, annoyance building in his heart. She may have been the Wanderer right then, but she sure knew how to stray from the truth. "How does all this balance magic have anything to do with me?"  
  
"I thought you'd never ask," she replied. Harry continued to stare at her. "For those eleven years of the coming of evil, the side of Good assured us all that their balance would come in due course, and that they prepared for a moment such as this. They had foreseen a great evil, so they decided to create a good that would grow to rival it. On July 31st, when the moon suddenly waxed full and the night was clear, a child was born into this world. A child twice blessed as a Balance for two generations. One that would be the only rival to the greatest evil this world had seen.  
  
"This child was given powers, but not ones physical or great in magic ability. The powers given to this child would be courage, honesty, valor, cunning and love. He would be the savior of mankind without thought of the glory, but simply out of the goodness of his heart. Yes, these powers would aid him well in his quest, and it did so for his very first battle."  
  
****  
  
Leo paced the dungeon frantically; the giant tome consuming his small arms and his brow furrowed in concentration. He was reading the same entry he had found back in the infirmary, and it still did not make sense. Only half of what happened in the dungeon pertained to everything written in the book.  
  
"Maybe I'm missing something here," he said to himself. "I have to be missing something." He looked down at the entry again.  
  
~'Upon the second day of arrival,  
Descend into the darkness shall be I  
And take with me the light of Good  
A twice blessed mortal clad in gold  
Who to me is Offered by his destiny  
But to recede into blackened night  
Red of a pureblood spill at my feet  
A Sacrifice of ancient blood  
And one more addition to complete the spell  
For Reason should be my greatest foe  
My nemesis and my strongest ally  
For Reason to reveal light of dawn  
To drive the revelation of Good's champion  
And Reason comes in form of black  
To oppose the gold of the Offered one  
An Offering, a Sacrifice, a Reason  
A magic superior to the reaches of time  
But fear not brother, for we are well,  
And shall return to you in all due course.'~  
  
****  
  
"He would have a clouded future and a horrid past, a combination that would aid him in life for the greater good," Wanderer went on. Her eyes twinkled and a full smile filled her face as the growing horrified look came across Harry's. "And for him, evil would never rest to overthrow him. For twice blessed Balance comes twice the trouble of evil. Harry Potter, do you know what has befallen this tragic wonder?"  
  
He was silent for a moment, not wanting to rise to her mocking bait. But looking at her, the wind blowing around her, the light coming from her and those dark, dark eyes made him answer. "I think I've a pretty accurate idea," he whispered.  
  
Then she actually laughed. "You are brave to play my games," she told him. But when she calmed down, she said, "Or maybe very foolish."  
  
Harry said nothing.  
  
"What befell this child was a heartbreaking loss. For the gifts of blessed powers, destiny would take her payment in form of love. By evil's own ways and by destiny's own road, this child would lose one love for each time he was consecrated. Two blessings, two loves. And who were these loves that destiny would take? The child was only a babe, not even knowing others besides his own home. So who to take?  
  
"Ah.but the two people who granted him life." She stopped smiling then, growing sincere. "For his toll, the lives of his parents would pay the price."  
  
****  
  
His head ached horribly, his body was stiff and he was certain that he'd probably never climb a flight of stairs without crying out in pain again. He knew something important had happened, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. He had been asleep for the entire day, this he was sure of, and he hoped he had enough strength in himself to wake up.  
  
~Come on, Ron,~ he told himself. ~Just open your eyes.~  
  
For what felt like an eternity, he tried his hardest o muster up the strength to raise his eyelids, pain spiraling through his head at the smallest of movements. But soon, however, he got it open, though at first his vision was blurry. He took a moment to clear it, and then the face of Hermione swam into view.  
  
"Welcome back," she said softly. He was grateful to her that she had the consideration to keep her voice low. His head was pounding even worse now.  
  
"Glad to be back," he muttered. "Where am I?"  
  
"You're in the infirmary room here in the tower. Leo brought you up," she explained. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, one arm over him holding herself up. She looked tired and worried; the everyday Hermione that gave Ron comfort.  
  
"Brought me up? From where?" he asked.  
  
Hermione sighed. "Just take a minute and remember, Ron. The dungeon? The pain? The lake room? Crystal chained to the wall and acting a tad bit psychotic?" She grinned at him as everything came flooding back.  
  
"Oh. Right; I remember now. The last thing I remember was that I was lying in the lake room. I was all wet and then I went to sleep after I asked you something. Hermione, why was I wet?"  
  
"It was Leo's doing," she explained. "You were hurt badly, and he said that the water in there had ancient healing powers. He had to douse you to heal you. Then he brought you up here to the twelfth floor after you fell asleep."  
  
Ron was surprised. "He did? That little guy brought me all the way to the twelfth floor? How on earth did he manage that?"  
  
"He's an Oracle, Ron. I've decided that whatever seems impossible is possible for them. He teleported you up here. It was very advanced magic; from all that he showed us, I can tell. And it was amazing how he did it. If pressed, I'd say it was a branch of magic with the mixture of Transfiguration and Charms, though I must say Transfiguration doesn't sound like it. But to changed your physical nature to tiny particles and-,"  
  
"Hermione," Ron started, moaning as he raised his hand to his head. "Shut up."  
  
"Sorry," she replied, smiling sheepishly. "Do you need any help?" she added, sitting back as he began to sit up gingerly.  
  
"No, that's alright. I think I can manage this bit." He leaned against the smooth, wooden headboard and breathed deeply. "But my back is on fire."  
  
"Here, let me check that," Hermione offered. He leaned forward and she lifted his shirt, quickly checking his back. The movements made him wince, but he said nothing out loud.  
  
"Is there anything? A scar or something?"  
  
"Nope," she said, lowering his shirt back down and sitting back. "Not a scratch on you, though your back is very red; but that should go away after some time." He could feel her eyes watching him as he leaned back against the headboard, but he kept his own eyes glued to his covers. "Ron," she suddenly started. He looked up then.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You really scared me for a moment back in the dungeons," she said quietly. Her gaze tore through him and into his heart. "I almost thought that I-I lost you." Her shoulders slumped a little, giving her a helpless look; and her eyes were cast down to the floor. Ron didn't know why, but he felt suddenly guilty.  
  
"Aw, come on, Hermione," he said, giving her his lopsided grin. "I swear, you and Harry need to put a little more faith in me. It's going to take a lot more than some all-powerful Oracle of Prodigy to do Ron Weasley in." She looked up at him, a small glaze over her eyes but nothing more. He grinned wider at her, and she broke out into a smile as well.  
  
"It was just, for a moment there, I panicked. I mean, I've always wondered what it would be like if we lost Harry, seeing as he's always a target; and every time I feel like my life wouldn't be the same without him. But before today, I never thought about what life would be like without you. It was always you who would help me get over the loss of Harry, but I never thought of a world without you in it." She let out a shuttering breath. "I'm not saying that I want Harry to keel over and die or anything; it's just, losing you was never an option. You were with me for life, and I couldn't bear it if you left. I'm already worried about one best friend; I don't need it to be two."  
  
Nodding, Ron patted the space beside him and moved himself over a bit. Obeying to the silent offer, Hermione crawled over and sat next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I know what you mean," he told her, fiddling with the bed clothes. "I've often wondered what everything would be like without Harry; and let me tell you, it isn't pleasant. I've just never had a best friend like him. Actually, come to think of it, I've never really had friends."  
  
Hermione let out a laugh at this, making Ron smile. He loved to make her laugh.  
  
"But I always seem to barely make it because I remember that I still have one more best friend." He put a hand over hers. "But just between you and me, we need to keep Harry around. I love you, Hermione, but sometimes I need Harry to just-,"  
  
"-be there so we won't drive each other crazy or ring one another's necks," Hermione finished. They both laughed.  
  
"Deal," he agreed.  
  
For a while they sat in silence, the last bit of sun disappearing out the window. It was still bright, however, for the magical light illuminated the room perfectly. The two friends said nothing for quite some time, but then a thought hit Ron and he spoke up.  
  
"Hermione, where is Leo?" he asked.  
  
"I'm not really sure," she said. "After Malfoy and I found the book he wanted, he read this entry in it and then teleported off."  
  
"Malfoy?" Ron repeated. "Malfoy's here?"  
  
Hermione looked up at him. "Oh right, you didn't know that. But yeah, he is. He didn't go through the portal, so he's staying here. Ron, please be nice to him; I think he's really changed! He was being so good to both Leo and I and he even went into the kitchens to brew you dinner. He went into his room to change, but promise me that, when he gets back, that you won't start up with him?"  
  
"Me start up with him?" Ron asked, feigning complete outrage. Well, at least not all of it was feigning. "I'm not the one who starts the rows here, it's him."  
  
"Ron, I'm serious," she told him. He shrugged at her.  
  
"Fine then, I promise. But I wouldn't have either way because I don't think I have the ability to argue with anyone at the moment. Does Dumbledore know about him?"  
  
Hermione looked up into the ceiling. "I wouldn't really say so, as he's in the bed next to you sleeping like a baby."  
  
Ron slowly looked to the side, for his head was swirling, and saw that the Headmaster was fast asleep among the soft, white sheets.  
  
"How on earth did he get like that?" he asked.  
  
"None of us are really sure," she responded. "But after Crystal and Harry disappeared we found him like-,"  
  
"What did you say?" he suddenly asked her, cutting her off. She looked at him in surprise.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
He shifted his weight so that he was facing her full on, ignoring the burning fire from his back. "You just said that Harry disappeared."  
  
"Oh," Hermione replied, her eyes growing wide. "Yeah, about that."  
  
"Where did he go? What happened? Is he okay?"  
  
"Calm down, Ron," she told him. "It all had to do with what happened down in the dungeons."  
  
****  
  
Harry's stomach clenched terribly and his knees had become weak, giving way to his weight and making him hit the dark, solid ground hard. If he hadn't been so shocked, then he would have probably lost all composure and blacked out right then and there. He did not like everything that was happening one bit.  
  
"So it was my fault," he said, making the Wanderer cock her head to hear well. "It's all my fault that my parents are-are dead. It was all because of what I was." He looked up to her. "Say it out loud. Say to me what I am," he commanded. The Oracle looked sadly back at him.  
  
"But you already know what you are," she answered in her hollow, echoing voice. "You know what it is that you were destined to do. You are the Balance, Harry Potter. The Balance for Good twice blessed by nature. You are fated to be the equal of Voldemort and you are fated to be the equal of the new Balance. You are so much more than a mere human."  
  
For a moment Harry was quiet, hating everything the Wanderer was telling him. He didn't want to be special. He didn't want to be the one to bring Voldemort to an end. He didn't want the responsibility of the world and he didn't want to be more than human. All he wanted was to be normal; to have friends and his parents and no more. But he couldn't have what he wanted.  
  
"Does Dumbledore know?" he asked her, suddenly growing angry for the fact that his life was a living hell for all he knew.  
  
The Wanderer did not hesitate to answer. "Of course he does. He has fought to protect you without interfering with your destiny. On his own part, Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore is an extraordinary human as well. He- ,"  
  
"Does Voldemort know?" Harry interrupted, growing more irritated by the moment. The unexpected rise of his voice caught the Wanderer off guard, but she answered unwaveringly nonetheless.  
  
"Yes. He knows what he is and what you are as well. That was his reason for wanting you dead." She looked at him with deadened eyes. "Is there anything else you wish to know?" she asked. Harry faltered.  
  
Yes, there was one more thing he wanted to know; something in which he knew the answer, but did not want to pass the opportunity of knowing for sure.  
  
"There is one more thing," he began, fixing his emerald green eyes into her black ones. She straightened her back and raised her chin, looking at him expressionlessly. "I want to know," Harry began, glad that his voice wasn't choking, "if I can change my destiny. I want to know if I can give this sorry excuse of a life of loss and tragedy away and ask for a boring, ordinary and normal one in return. I want to know if I can be relieved of being the hero everyone wants me to be and just be Harry Potter! I want to know if being the Balance for Good is everything its cracked up to be, and if I'll have to lose even more loved ones because of what I am! I want to know if I can change my destiny!"  
  
He was breathing hard now, his eyes on fire and his body suddenly tired. He fell down to the ground; sitting in a crumpled heap of defeat. He didn't cry, but it was a sight that hurt even more so if he did.  
  
Then the Wanderer disappeared; and all that was left was Crystal Tiara. All trace of the power of the Oracle was gone and she was left as no more than a girl. The wind was gone, the light was gone and the empty void of a voice she had obtained was gone as well. She looked at Harry with eyes that were no longer consumed in blackness, but now a dark blue. She walked to him.  
  
"You can't," she said to him, looking down at his slumped figure. "You can't change a destiny chosen from the beginning of time, Harry Potter. Whichever path you wish to take, you will be granted this one."  
  
"And what awaits me down this all-powerful path?" Harry shot at her, keeping his head low. She felt her heart tense.  
  
"Do you really want to know?" she asked.  
  
He nodded his head and said, "Yes."  
  
Crystal forced herself to not cry. "You were meant to be the Balance, Harry Potter; and you were meant to be an equal to Voldemort. But though that was what was intended, that is not how it shall happen." She breathed deeply. "Before the eve of your birth rolls around once more.you will die at the hands of Lord Voldemort."  
  
And though she knew he wanted to cry out, to forget his dignity and dissolve into tears, he couldn't. He only sat there, his shoulders shaking from either fear or anger. And no matter how much she commanded herself to bend down and take this scared little boy into her arms, to comfort him and try to save him for his horrid fate, she couldn't. She couldn't because she was an Oracle; and she suddenly thought that Harry wasn't the only one who wished to change their destiny.  
  
A/N: Dun dun dun!! Muahahahaha! Anyways, sorry this chapter took so long. I didn't mean for it to be this long or take so much time. But anyway, I want thank you guys for your reviews and I appreciate you guys reading my fanfic. Keep checking, because I will hopefully get future chapters up soon since summer is coming. Oh-and Marleina? Make sure Liz doesn't read this fic anymore, she doesn't appreciate it like you do! =)  
  
Coming up: Hermione worries even more, Draco grows extremely tired, Ron sees his sister, Harry and Crystal try to figure out how to get out, Leo reveals the secrets of an Oracles duel and Dumbledore sleeps on. A little more of what the Dark Lord is planning and what's going on in Hogwarts. Hope you like it; it's all coming up! One-two-three-four.did did did did diddly did did...(the Beatles people the Beatles!!!!!!!!!!) 


	12. The Meaning of True Happiness

Chapter Twelve ~  
  
The Meaning of True Happiness  
  
Draco opened the door to his room, tired and worn and wishing only to fall amongst the sheets and sleep. But he couldn't, for there was still much to do in the tower. He had left Hermione in the infirmary with Ron, saying that he only wanted to change and refresh himself. His real reason was so that, when Weasley woke up, the two would have some time alone to wonder about Potter.  
  
"Potter," Draco said to himself, pulling off his tunic and slipping into a fresh one. He hadn't thought about what happened to Harry at all that day. He just remembered that he was gone when vision was restored in the dungeons; and it seemed that no one knew why or to where.  
  
He pulled on a new pair of trousers and then flopped onto the bed, softness tempting him to lay his head down and sleep. He didn't know why he was so tired all of a sudden, but it had been like this for the last few days. Never in his life did he feel so fatigued.  
  
"I don't need to sleep," he tried to convince himself, though his grey eyes were slowly being hidden behind his falling lids and he unconsciously laid his head on the pillow. Soon afterwards, his eyes closed, and he was whisked away to a very short slumber.  
  
~"He will kill him," Voldemort said, staring down at the motionless figure that was Draco. "If I ever fail to rid the world of Harry Potter, then he will succeed as my second, Lucius. He will kill him."~  
  
Draco sat bolt right in bed; practically springing from the sheets and standing on the cold hard stone, his heart pounding. He was blinking furiously, trying to get his vision right and keep the room from spinning due to his sudden movements.  
  
I didn't dream that, he thought to himself. It wasn't real.it was just a trick of my mind.  
  
It wasn't as though Draco was guilty for being thought of to kill Harry; Merlin knew he would have done it back in fourth year when the trio had unceremoniously cursed him to oblivion. It was just the thought of actually being an optional murderer was a bit mind-boggling. And was that dream and dream or an actual memory from the night he got his Mark?  
  
Also, he couldn't forget that he was still on the fence here. He was neither good nor evil, but somewhere in between.  
  
"Calm down, Malfoy," he told himself. "You're acting like a paranoid, little girl."  
  
Shaking his head to wake himself up, Draco left the room.  
  
****  
  
"And you don't know where they went?" Ron asked for perhaps the millionth time.  
  
"No," Hermione answered for perhaps the millionth time as well. She was getting a little irritated. "Ron, everything went a sort of black color and when everything came back into view they were gone and you were on the floor."  
  
"And Dumbledore was sleeping," he added. She nodded in agreement. "That has got to be the part that surprises me the most."  
  
"You and the rest of us as well," she answered. As Ron turned to lean his back against the headboard, Hermione returned her head to his shoulder, unable to stifle a yawn.  
  
"Are you tired?" he asked her.  
  
"I shouldn't be; I slept most of the time I was here." She sighed heavily. "I wish Harry were here."  
  
"That makes two of us," Ron replied, taking hold of her hand once more and fiddling with it. "But I'm sure he's all right. I mean, if he's got an Oracle of Prodigy with him, then basically nothing can touch him, right? Plus, it's Harry! It's as if Death has some sort of grudge against him and refuses to go to him."  
  
Hermione shook her head and smiled. "Be quiet," she said kindly. Ron rolled his eyes.  
  
"Up you get then, 'Mione," he said, shifting his weight. "I really need to go to the bathroom."  
  
Hermione raised her head and looked at him. "Are you sure?" she asked, concerned. He stared at her.  
  
"I usually am," he said to her, a bit confused.  
  
"That's not what I meant. I mean, can you make it on your own? I know that the water healed you, but I'm not sure if it gave you the strength you need. You've barely had a full day to recover."  
  
Ron waved the thought aside. "I appreciate the concern, Hermione; but when nature calls you need to answer. Besides, it's not like I'm scouting the entire building; I'm just going to the bathroom. I think I could manage on my own." He lifted the covers away and slowly swung his legs over the edge. Hermione watched apprehensively as he slid his feet to the ground.  
  
"You might want to be careful," she suggested, as he pushed himself up. "I'm not sure you're legs will hold your weight."  
  
"Stop worrying," Ron told her, shaking a little on his feet and holding into the bedpost for support. But when he let go he stood on his own for maybe a split second before clasping to the ground in a heap.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed half in anxiety and half in amusement. "Are you okay?" She couldn't help but smile as she looked over the edge and saw him lying flat on his back.  
  
"Ow," was what he said in return.  
  
"You know I hate to say this, but I told you so," she scolded, hopping off the bed and holding a hand out to him.  
  
"No you don't," Ron protested passionately. "You love to say it. It brings joy to your very world telling people, especially me, that you told me so. It is the basis of your very existence and if you couldn't say it, then everything would crumble." He mock scowled at her.  
  
"Think what you may," was her only reply. "But trust me on this, you need someone to help you; for you to lean on."  
  
"But I don't want to lean on you; you're so tiny, Hermione. I'd topple you over."  
  
"I know," Hermione said, setting him down on the bed. "Sadly, I'm not Harry who's close to your height. Goodness, if only we had-,"  
  
"Malfoy," Ron put in.  
  
"Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking. If he were here then he would be of great help."  
  
"No," Ron said. "I mean, Malfoy's here." He pointed past her to the doorway. Turning around, Hermione saw the blonde-haired, grey-eyed Slytherin leaning against the doorframe.  
  
"Speak of the devil," she piped as he walked in. Ron raised his eyebrows.  
  
"That was a mouthful," he inquired. Hermione shot him a warning look.  
  
"Glad to see you too, Weasley," Draco replied. "About time you came around."  
  
"It's a bit hard to wake up when you were almost blasted to death, Malfoy," Ron shot back, narrowing his eyes. "Not everyone usually fakes their injuries."  
  
"Because some are not so weak as to acquire many," Draco counteracted. Hermione noted that both were staring at each with a glint in their eyes, as if exchanging insults was some kind of sick pleasure of theirs.  
  
"Stop it, both of you," she said.  
  
They both turned their gaze to her. "No," they replied in unison. Hermione raised her eyebrows at them.  
  
"Excuse me, what did you say?" she asked heatedly. The two boys lost their masculine courage for a moment and shook their heads. "That's what I thought," she finished.  
  
"Er--Hermione? I really need to go," Ron told her. Hermione nodded.  
  
"Malfoy, would you help Ron to the bathroom for us? I'd do it, but he's too tall for me."  
  
"Uh-uh. No way. Out of the question, sorry for the inconvenience," he answered abruptly, throwing up his arms and backing away. "Of all the things on my list of 'I Will Never Do', taking Weasley to the bathroom is the second under 'create an emotional bond with a Hufflepuff first year'."  
  
Ron actually snickered at this, catching the attention of both Draco and Hermione. "What now?" she demanded. Ron looked at her.  
  
"Well, imagine Malfoy sitting with a *Hufflepuff* and acting *emotional*! I mean, come on, it's quite the fantastic sight." He grinned at her and she couldn't help but smile the slightest bit.  
  
"Simple minds, simple pleasures," Draco muttered, earning a sudden death glare from Ron.  
  
"I wouldn't be so high as to associate you with a simple mind, Malfoy," Ron replied coolly. He only shrugged in response.  
  
"You wouldn't be so high as to associate with anyone, Weasley."  
  
"Watch it," Ron warned. Draco wasn't threatened, but only shot him a bored, icy look. "Look Hermione, he obviously hasn't changed as much as we would have hoped; and I really have to go. So I'm just going to try and brave the journey alone."  
  
"Good luck," Draco spat, walking to the far window and falling onto the windowsill. Ron ignored him.  
  
Pulling himself back to his feet by the bedpost, Ron wavered a bit as he fought to stand on his own. Hermione scowled at Draco, but he did not budge from his seat at the window. Trying hard not wince and going as fast as he could, Ron staggered slowly towards the door.  
  
It took him ages to reach it, but when he did it seemed that he had used all his energy on that minor trip. He leaned against the doorframe, panting and sweating though determined to go on. It was enough to get Hermione angry enough to hit.  
  
"Oh goodness' sake, Malfoy! Would you please help him? He almost died once, and I don't want to explain to Mrs. Weasley that her son did not die a hero's death but he did so on the way to the lavatory!" She glared at him with a bit of pleading in her eyes, but Draco didn't want to give in so easily.  
  
"I said that I'm not going anywhere with Weasley."  
  
"Despite the fact that he nearly died?"  
  
Draco stared. "Yes."  
  
"It's alright, Hermione. I can make it," Ron gasped back to her. She knew it was such a small thing to get worked up about, but she got worked up anyway. Though she was glad Draco had resulted to the more crude insults, he was still being horribly nasty.  
  
"See?" Draco piped up. "He said so himself."  
  
"Don't help me," Ron snapped at him, blue eyes narrowed.  
  
"Like I'd ever, Weasel."  
  
"The animal crack coming from the Amazing Bouncing Ferret!"  
  
"Ron-," Hermione tried.  
  
Draco shook his head dramatically. "Okay, it's getting old, Weasley. At least come up with something better than that for once. Sheesh; to think I waste my breath on someone as pathetic as you."  
  
"Then why waste your precious breath on me at all?" Ron grunted. Draco stared.  
  
"I already answered that; you're pathetic."  
  
"Malfoy," she started quietly, getting a bit irked.  
  
"Honestly Malfoy, if Hermione hadn't asked me to give you a chance than I swear, I'd strangle you right now."  
  
"And you're going to stop because a girl told you not too?" Draco inquired.  
  
Hermione looked at him, astonished. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Maybe because I've got some decency in me, unlike a certain Slytherin I sadly know." Ron was breathing regularly now but was shaking madly as well.  
  
"That's because that's all you'll ever be, decent. No more, no less. A bit depressing, if you ask me."  
  
"Well, I didn't."  
  
"Too bad for you," Draco hissed, crossing his arms.  
  
Hermione raised her voice a bit louder. "Okay, that's enough of that. Now let's just forget this whole ordeal and-,"  
  
"Malfoy, why on earth are you here?" Ron suddenly blurted, grasping onto the door handle. "Why did you stay here in Enol when you could have gone back home to Hogwarts instead? Why did you stay knowing that the four people you hate most in the world would be here along with you? Why didn't you just let us be and leave us to our business instead of ruining everything with your presence? You know, last night Harry and I were talking, and for quite some time we actually had pity on you! Merlin knows why, but we did. We thought that the encounter in the forest had to be something indeed, and that maybe it would change you a bit. But no! Now you're just making everything worse for us! And here I am, most likely in a lot more pain than you'll ever be, being beaten down with insults by the likes of you! Are you mental or something?"  
  
He took in a great breath, staring hard at Malfoy with not pure hatred, but an immense dislike. Hermione looked from one to other, a little ashamed for Ron's cruelty and a little impressed with his questions. Ron, however, was sincere in his interrogation, and he stared at Draco with the passion of anger. The blonde-hair adversary stared back with just as much intensity, though when he spoke, he did not betray his look.  
  
"I'm not helping you," he almost whispered.  
  
****  
  
Ginny Weasley walked through the hallways of Hogwarts at a leisurely pace, not really paying attention to anything and enjoying the bitter winter breeze whipping in from the windows. She had just finished her first class, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the fourth years had just spent an entire period physically stressing over the Unforgivable Curses. Now she had a few minute before the bell rang signaling the start of the next class, and she needed to get across the castle to her Charms class.  
  
But as Ginny rounded the strangely deserted corridor, she almost ran straight into Professor McGonagall herself.  
  
"Sorry, Professor," she stammered, stepping aside to let the older woman pass; but their meeting confused her a little. She recalled that many of the older students that had Transfiguration were saying that there was a substitute for that class, and that McGonagall had taken a personal day off to spend in Hogsmeade. But if she was supposed to be in Hogsmeade, why was she here?  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Weasley," she apologized; waving her wand and 'picking' up the book that Ginny had unconsciously dropped. She handed it back to her with a nod.  
  
"That's all right," Ginny assured her. She didn't know if this question was out of line, but like her brothers before her, she couldn't help her curiosity. "Pardon me if I'm intruding Professor, but why weren't you in Transfiguration today if you're here?" Right away, Ginny felt this question was more of an accusation, and she was close to dropping it and heading on to Charms when the woman answered her.  
  
"For a very important reason," McGonagall told her, looking up and down the corridor. She then fixed Ginny with her gaze and looked to her through her spectacles. "If I may ask, Miss Weasley, but have you seen your brother at all today?"  
  
Ginny got the feeling that she already knew the answer, and the Professor was also giving her a testing look.  
  
"N-no, not at all, Professor. Actually, I haven't seen him since yesterday." She bit her lip, wondering why she felt nervous.  
  
McGonagall looked a bit pleading towards her. "Did he by chance leave you a note or a letter? Was there anything?"  
  
Ginny was astonished. "No; at least, I doubt so. He doesn't usually do that." Her eyes were shifting and she was wringing her hands. She didn't want to admit it, but for the first time in the four years she had known McGonagall, she never sounded so.strange.  
  
"Oh," she replied, shaking her head. "No, I guess he wouldn't."  
  
There was a short silence in where the Professor kept looking around the corridor for something and Ginny was debating whether to leave or stay. When she had finally come to the decision that she would be too late for class if she loitered any longer, the Professor laid a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Miss Weasley, I was wondering if you could do me favor."  
  
The small redhead was taken off-guard.  
  
"Yeah, sure Professor McGonagall; what is it?" she asked.  
  
"I need you to contact your brother and father," she told her. Ginny's brow furrowed.  
  
"Er-.why-," she started, but was cut off.  
  
"It's about the Dark Lord," the old woman told her. Ginny went completely white.  
  
"Oh," she breathed. The Professor looked at her with earnest.  
  
"Now, listen very carefully, Ginny, because I'm going to need your help with this," she went on. "I want you to go to my office, light the fire, and call your father at the Ministry."  
  
****  
  
"What do we do now?" Harry asked, a little annoyed and a little tired. He stared up at Crystal, who on her own part, could do nothing but shake her head and shrug. Harry let out a sigh.  
  
It had been quite some times since the discovery of him being the Balance and all that, and Harry had had time to let it all sink in. At first he had been angry about it all, then depressed and then frustrated. He didn't know how he felt about it now, but he knew that there would never be a time when he was glad about it.  
  
"This is terrible!" Crystal cried out searching around herself. "I have no idea how to get out of here! I knew how to get in, just not out. Damned souls of Purgatory! It was because of them that I didn't get to finish the vision."  
  
"A vision?" Harry asked, his attention caught once more. Crystal looked down to him, a bit aggravated.  
  
"Yes, I had a vision about this. I had a vision about everything that happened in the dungeons. I knew the signs, knew the magic that would 'accidentally' be performed and where you and I would end up; but I never got to finish the vision because the souls in Purgatory felt the absence of my powers and began to panic. It's always like that when I have miscellaneous premonitions." She growled in frustration.  
  
Harry looked questioningly at her. "Wait a minute; you didn't finish the vision because the souls felt your absence of power?"  
  
"Yes. They could feel that I wasn't doing what I was supposed to: laying down the paths of choice for mortals, judging the accomplishments of the deceased for access to Heaven or Hell and basically running the lives everything in the world." Crystal gave him a false smile before dropping it almost instantly and searching around herself once more. Harry felt comfortable speaking to her when she was this way. She seemed more to his age and level and he wasn't afraid to ask questions. She seemed more human even though she wasn't.  
  
"I still don't get that," Harry said, relaxing a bit and leaning back on his hands. He watched her as she began walking around him, desperate for a way out. "I mean how do you do everything that you're supposed to when for the past few days, you haven't left any of us? Whenever I saw you, you were perfectly normal and.with us, if you know what I'm saying. When do you find time to control the world?"  
  
"I control the world all the time," Crystal replied off-handedly. "I'm doing it right now." She glanced at him, satisfied at the confused look on his face. "I do it constantly; almost as often as I draw breath," she went on, returning to walking a circle around him and never ceasing from searching through the darkness. "But it's not an actual thing where I have to devote my entire self to. As I continue with my life, my sub conscience is at work, dealing with the basic needs of my position.  
  
"It's like hearing voices in my head, only they whisper and I can hear them faintly. I know what's going on in 'my world', but I'll always hear the thoughts and things that go on with the souls of the mortal world. With that, my magical side takes the information to lay down the paths."  
  
She gave Harry a small nod before giving up on searching the seemingly growing expanse and flopped down in front of him. One would think that, being an Oracle and also a girl; that she would be a bit more graceful and composed, like her previous appearances; flopping and sprawling your self into a sitting position was hardly the behavior of such a dignified person. But Crystal no longer seemed anything more than a girl no more than Harry's own age. He liked it.  
  
"Wow," he mumbled, cocking his head at her. "And, I thought I had it bad. I thought my whole scar deal was a burden, but to constantly hear voices in your head? That's got to get annoying. How do you know which ones are real and which are from the mortal world?"  
  
Crystal grinned. "Believe me when I say it wasn't easy. It took a lot of practice. When I was little, I could barely tell if it was me who was speaking or the people. Once, when I was four and didn't really understand my place, I thought I was going insane and began clawing at the stone walls and blowing everything up. I set the entire tenth floor into flames!" She laughed heartily at this, head thrown back and her hand clutching her stomach.  
  
Harry could do no more than attempt to smile weakly at this. He didn't know if she knew it, but her statement was awfully depressing.  
  
"Ah," was all he could say in return.  
  
When Crystal's brief hysteria subsided, she brought her knees to hug her chest and rested her chin on them, staring hard at Harry. He caught sight of her darkened stare and drew away a bit.  
  
"What?" he asked. She only shrugged.  
  
"I was just thinking that you do look a lot like your father. You look a lot like him, except for your eyes. You have-,"  
  
"-my mother's eyes. Yeah, I know; that's what everyone who's met my parents tells me." He relaxed.  
  
"And it is so," Crystal agreed, tilting her head. "It's rare to have eyes such a bright green as yours. That's the mark that sets the Balances apart from other mortals, I guess."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Really?"  
  
"Yes. You have unusually green eyes and the Balance for Evil back in the Arthurian age, Morgan le Fey had mismatched green and violet eyes. Even Jesus Christ, the very essence of Goodness Himself, had amazingly brilliant blue eyes. They were deep but light, strong yet soft. He was the greatest of the Balances, for he was also of a greater power as well. When he came into the world, his reign was known as the Diamond Age among the magical realms. He took it upon himself to be the Balance for his generation, and he was the King of All Nations. Oh, the people did love him; still do, in fact." She smiled Harry. Harry unknowingly returned the smile.  
  
"But you're not your father," she proceeded, looking at him thoroughly. Harry felt himself blush for a reason he did not know. "Yes, that is plain as day. You are not your father, but you are definitely your father's son." She leaned forward then and touched a fingertip to his scar. Her skin was cool and felt good against his warm forehead. "And your scar reminds people of that. Let us hope you have a different path than your father."  
  
At this, Harry sat up taller. "What *is* my path?" he asked her, lowering her hand with his own. "Will everything come out like in a fairy tale, with me finishing the Dark Lord off, or will I finally succeed in failing everyone?"  
  
"You know, that is quite a contradiction," she began, going completely off the subject, "to succeed in failure. I'd say it's a quote for ages, though."  
  
"That's not even beside the point," Harry scowled. "What is my path?"  
  
Crystal stared at him hard. "Do you really want to know?" she questioned. Harry nodded.  
  
"More than anything," he added. Crystal sighed and looked down at her hands.  
  
"Then brace yourself, because this could get interesting," she remarked.  
  
****  
  
"I can't believe I just helped Weasley to the lavatory," Draco declared, stepping through the wooden door and joining Hermione in the hall. She was sitting on the windowsill right across from the door and she was grinning in amusement. "I can't believe I helped Weasley, period."  
  
"Oh hush up, Malfoy. You've done a good deed; be proud," Hermione told him in her regal tone. Draco glared at her.  
  
"That doesn't count as a good deed. It wasn't intentional on my part; you made me help him." He walked over to lean against the wall next to her seat. "I hate all of you Gryffindors."  
  
"You didn't have to listen to me," Hermione defended. "I gave you the choice to help him or not; you made the decision in the end."  
  
Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "True. But then again, you stripped me of my wand and held your own to me and threatened to blast me out the window if I didn't agree to help him."  
  
"I didn't say I'd blast you out the window," Hermione said under her breath, fiddling with her hands. "I said down the stairs."  
  
"Same pain capacity."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "One would be more prolonged."  
  
Draco shrugged and they fell into silence. For a while the silence remained, one in which the two would later find out that they made an unspoken deal with one another. Through that brief silence, they had made a truce of tolerance between one and the other. It was unknown to either, but known to both.  
  
But after a time, Hermione let out an exasperated breath and stepped down from the sill.  
  
"Honestly, does it take that long for him to do what needs to be done? I thought girls were supposed to take long in the lavatory, not boys." Sensing a well-aimed insult towards Ron radiating off Draco, Hermione silenced him before he could say it out loud. "Don't remark on that. Just wait here while I go get him."  
  
"You're going to get him?" Draco asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Hermione, that's actually a boys' toilet. I'm the only one who can go in there after him. Why not ask me to go?"  
  
"Because I know you won't," she shot back, turning the knob and watching him. He smiled and shrugged.  
  
"You catch on quickly, Granger."  
  
"It's not that hard when I'm following someone like you, Malfoy." And she shut the door behind her before he could retort. Turning her back to it, she saw that this bathroom was similar to the ones at Hogwarts, with its stone floor and simple yet clean furnishings.  
  
It was quite large, and at first Hermione was too amazed by the height of the ceiling to notice that Ron was sitting against the wall farthest from her. When she looked back down, she saw his flaming red hair and the whiteness of his tunic near the floor and ran to his side.  
  
"Ron," she said calmly, falling to his side with a smile on her face. "What happened to you? What are you doing on the floor?"  
  
He looked at her, a bit of humor dancing in his blue eyes as well. "After I washed my hands, I had no vigor to walk to the door or call out for help. So I sat down here." He grinned broadly at her. "I feel pathetic," he laughed. Hermione laughed along with him. "Just don't tell Malfoy I said that."  
  
"Deal," she promised, and stood before him and held out her hand. He grasped it gratefully and allowed her to heave him to his feet, giving as much help as possible. But despite his attempt to stand upright, he had to slump over Hermione's shoulders and use her as his support.  
  
"Bloody hell," he grumbled, trying not to tip her over. "I feel completely useless. Sorry about this, 'Mione."  
  
"Not at all," Hermione insisted, showing him that she took no offense. "You have a reason to be like this."  
  
Ron snorted. "No I don't," he dissented. "Harry wouldn't be like this."  
  
There was an uneasy feeling hovering around the word Harry. Hermione felt it like a crashing wave and looked up into the worried blue eyes of Ron.  
  
"He's fine, Ron. Remember, you're the one who told me that."  
  
"I know, I know," he insisted. "But I'm not entirely sure that I can believe even myself. I mean, we're in an entirely different world here. For example, look at what happened to you and Malfoy. What could do *that* to the two most stubborn people in the world? You both were.defeated. It was like something had come so close to breaking you two. And if it can do that to you-or Malfoy-imagine what it could do to Harry? He may be a bit stronger, but not by so much."  
  
Hermione poked him in the side. "Stop beating your self up for it," she commanded. "It wasn't your fault that Harry disappeared."  
  
"But was it though?" he exclaimed. Hermione looked at him, shocked.  
  
"Ron, you were hurt badly. I don't think you could have done anything even if you had been conscious-,"  
  
"But it was my fault that I was hurt in the first place!"  
  
"What?"  
  
Ron shook his head and took in a deep breath. "Hermione, we both had that same dream; don't you remember? We both had that dream about me 'dying' and it actually happened. Hermione, I knew I was going to get hurt. I knew that if I walked closer to her, she would hit me. I knew that it was dangerous, but like the idiot that I am, I went forward anyway." He sighed heavily. "If only I'd known that the result would be Harry disappearing, then I would have had more control."  
  
"Ron," Hermione started right away. "Look at me."  
  
Turning his eyes from where they were staring at the far wall, Ron locked his sapphire gaze with hers.  
  
"It's not your fault," she repeated. "Something happened, we can all be sure on that. But like the Oracles say, everything happens for a reason. Crystal, herself, is the one who lies down the roads of destiny for everyone; so why should this road be any different? He's fine, Ron. This is Harry we're talking about, not Neville or Seamus or Parvati and Lavender."  
  
Ron could not suppress that small laugh that came when he imagined a paranoid Neville meeting someone as imposing as Crystal Tiara.  
  
"No, I guess not," he agreed, rolling his eyes at her. "Thanks for proving me wrong once again."  
  
"No problem," Hermione said then suddenly fell silent. For a while they stayed staring into one another's eyes, one intense blue and the other a fiery brown. It had never occurred to Hermione that the eyes *were* windows to the soul until that very moment. She could see things in Ron that he would have normally kept hidden from her. She could see worry, terror, concern for Harry's welfare, concern for her own welfare, and, odd as it was, love; a love that could be sparked by only two names.  
  
It wasn't the kind of love he would give to someone like Ginny; no, that was age-old love. A love shared between blood, bone and bondage. But this love that she could see shining from him, this was something that she had never seen before. It was deeper than the ocean, more pure than the first snow, and greater than Heaven's glory. It was one that could shatter a heart to pieces, or mend it as if brand new. It was a love every girl hoped for, and one every boy wish he could own. It was love for Harry and her.  
  
"Sorry," Ron suddenly spluttered, breaking the severe silence and letting go of Hermione. He stepped away from her, despite his shaking frame, and with that, closed off all emotion from his eyes unknowingly. "I didn't mean to stare, Hermione. I-I was just a little--.a little distracted, that's all." A blush crept up his cheeks and tinted his ears red.  
  
But Hermione didn't notice. She was still staring intently into his eyes, determined to find even the faintest spark of what she had seen earlier. "No. No, that's all right."  
  
She did not notice the strange and confused look that claimed his features as she began smiling into his face.  
  
"Hermione?" Ron prodded, leaning away from her despite the fact that he was already a good three feet from her. "Hermione, are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah," she responded dreamily, and then she shook her head and tried to regain her poise. "Yes," she told him, more firmly this time. "I was just- thinking."  
  
"About what?" he asked. Hermione only shrugged.  
  
"That you have blue eyes."  
  
Ron stared at her for a moment. And when he opened his mouth to say something to her, she cut him off with a laugh, grabbed his arm, and helped him out of the room.  
  
****  
  
"Think of your life as the world, Harry," Crystal said, kneeling directly in front of him, her black eyes level with his green ones.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Now, just like in the world, there are thousands upon thousands of places for you to go; am I right?" she grinned lazily at him. He gulped.  
  
"I would guess so," he replied. Crystal rolled her eyes.  
  
"Fine then; let's take a look at the many places for you to visit, Harry Potter," she practically sang, and snapped her fingers above her head.  
  
There was an abrupt whirl of wind, and then several things came flying into the darkened area around them. As they halted in the air, they made a sphere encasing them, and Harry could tell what they were. Each was an equally round globe of faint, swirling light. They gave off a cool, blue and white glow, illuminating the spot where Harry and Crystal were surrounded by them.  
  
They bobbed up and down in the air, but otherwise remained still. And in each one, a scene seemed to be playing out; just like the muggle motion pictures. But as different as each one of these scenes were, they all had one thing in common; they all had Harry in them.  
  
One had Harry at Hogwarts, standing in front of the Head table in the Great Hall with a glittering Head Boy badge pinned to his front. Another had him hiding in the shadows of an alley in London around the age of thirteen. He was watching intently as Ministry wizards ran back and forth in the lit street before him, calling his name and throwing Tracking Spells and Memory Charms left and right.  
  
Yet another showed him sitting on damp ground, bent over the small, dead body of a girl. Ron was behind him and so was Gilderoy Lockhart. Ron was on the ground, face buried in his hands and silence creating a shroud around him. Lockhart looked dazed and confused, banging on mile high pillars carved with gigantic snakes. But the girl in his arms lay still, his hand holding her pale face and her flaming red hair spilling out over his arms; and he was crying. Crying for the first time in his life that he could ever know.  
  
"What's this?" Harry asked frantically whirling around, looking at all the different scenes. There were so many with him at so many ages; from when he was young and with the Dursleys, to when he was older and at Hogwarts. "Are these.?"  
  
"No, none of them are memories or past experiences, I'm afraid. You will not find your parents in any of these," Crystal cut him off, standing up and looking around at the many different globes. Harry scrambled to his own feet, staring curiously at her the entire time.  
  
"How did you--.oh, right. The Oracle thing," he caught on. Crystal looked back at him and grinned.  
  
"It's just a habit," she replied. "But these," she began, walking up to the closest one and examining it, "these are 'parts of your life', if it came to categorizing them."  
  
She held her hand under the small orb, not even touching it, but as she moved her hand away, the orb floated above her palm and anywhere her hand went. The scene inside was one where Harry was in a darkened place surrounded by high walls of plant life. He was limping and his clothes were burnt and worn and a small trickle of blood was showing through his ripped pant leg. But despite his injuries, he was looking around in haste, panic in his every bone and calling out someone's name; Cedric Diggory's name. Beside him was a pillar that looked as if it was meant to hold a gleaming cup, but there was nothing on it and Harry looked completely alone.  
  
"But really, they are the moments in your life that you will never know. For every decision you have made, this is the alternate of that decision. These are the places that your road has over-passed." She held out her hand with the orb in it and gave it a small shove so that it hovered between them, suspended in the air. "This is what would have happened had you let Cedric take the Triwizard Cup without you."  
  
Harry inched closer, fascination in every aspect of his body. He was an inch away from the globe, looking into it with an alarm that showed that all of this was much too unreal.  
  
"If I had let him take it," he said off-handedly, "he would have been murdered and no one would be the wiser; no one would ever see him again."  
  
Crystal nodded. "Precisely," she commented. Harry sighed.  
  
"I should have just taken it myself. Then he would still be alive and I wouldn't feel so guilty."  
  
Crystal frowned at him. "You dare to dream, Harry. The decision you wish you had taken is not what you imagine it to be."  
  
"Are you so sure?" Harry challenged, unable to keep the defiance out of his voice. Crystal's gaze was stern.  
  
"Are you still doubting my ways?"  
  
Harry said nothing.  
  
Cocking her head, she reached up above her and caught another orb and directed it to hover next to the other in the center. It flew forward to meet Harry's eyes and now his attention was focused on it instead of the other.  
  
In this scene, he alone had taken the cup; and he alone faced Voldemort and escaped just as he had done, without the dealing of Cedric or his death.  
  
"It *would* have been better," he said silently, looking up to her. "It would have been so much easier; and Cedric would have stayed alive. Everyone would have stayed-,"  
  
"They wouldn't have stayed safe," Crystal interrupted, speaking over him. Harry looked up and stared at her. "Watch," she said with enough force for him to hold his tongue and do what she told him. He looked back down to the orb.  
  
It showed himself traveling back from the graveyard. He was lying on the green grass outside of the maze and he was clutching the great cup to his chest. When he opened his eyes, he stood up abruptly, shouting for Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione. But when his eyes focused on the scene around him, he froze; as did the Harry watching the scene.  
  
All around the Harry in the globe, covering almost every inch of Hogwarts ground, lay the slain bodies of the students, teachers, families and friends. There were people dead in the stands; people dead on the grounds; and people dead inside the maze. No one stirred and no one moved. And on all of their faces was that same, cold stare of terror mixed with unearthly horror.  
  
Then Harry felt himself being lurched forward and he was no longer looking into the scene, but now stood in it. To one side of him was Crystal, cool and calm; and to the other was he, himself, oblivious to their intrusion and shocked beyond comprehension.  
  
"They wouldn't have stayed safe," Crystal repeated; and her words were with scorn and not pity.  
  
****  
  
Draco slid down the wall, head leaning back against the cold, stone wall. Hermione had just left him to fetch Weasley, and he had a feeling that it was going to take a while.  
  
Looking up and out the window, Draco could see that the sun was now gone and night began consuming the sky. And as he stared into the darkening night, he could feel the sleep that he had abandoned in his room catch up to him now. His eyelids fell, his breath slowed and he could feel the blanket of sleep close about him.  
  
~Her blood stained his hands and her life tainted his eyes. She lay on the floor, still as death but with the faintest sound of breathing in her lungs. And for reasons he did not know, he cared not at all.  
  
"I forgive you," she whispered, her unfocused eyes staring into nothing. She looked up at him and he down to her. "I forgive you," she repeated, clenching her hands against the dull pain.  
  
And though he wanted to give back her forgiveness, though he wished she would hate him than show him such compassion. And he cared but did not care, so turned his back on her who he cared for and left through the open door-  
  
And he was back in the forest of Purgatory, surrounded by the souls bound for eternal death or eternal life; and as each one stood faceless, from those crying blood, to crying water, to waiting in utter silence, one stood among them all, his face distinct among the faceless.  
  
Draco walked forward, passing the other souls without a second glance. His eyes were wide in shock and he could barely keep his amazement in. As he neared this familiar face, he could feel none of the usual loathing and cruelty towards it, for it was different from when he had ever seen it.  
  
Ron sat sprawled against a mutilated rock, donned in his white garb and paler than the moon. But the horror came from his blue eyes; blue eyes that spilled forth the garnet liquid of flesh. Like the souls surrounding him, he wept the salt of blood.  
  
"I could not save him," he whispered, looking away into nothing. "I'm so sorry. I tried to save him; I really did. But I could not. I could not save him." He looked toward Draco now, making him falter in his steps. "And you could. You saved him. You did what I couldn't," he said to him. "You did what I wanted to do."  
  
Then his chest heaved upward and he burst into a thousand pinpricks of blue and white light. Draco threw up his hands to shield his eyes, the light burning into his skin and blinding his vision--.~  
  
"Malfoy, wake up," Ron said, bending over the sleeping Slytherin. But it was the wrong thing to do.  
  
In a flash, Draco's eyes snapped open, taking no time to register what was a dream or reality. He grabbed Ron's outstretched arm and twisted it till he hit the floor in a yelp of pain. His other hand dug in his robes for his wand, and its tip was pressed to Ron's throat within seconds. He was leaning over him, breathing hard and trying to focus his sight.  
  
"What in blazes are you playing at, Malfoy?!" Ron cried, staring up at him in fear. Draco blinked hard at him.  
  
"What?" he asked stupidly.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione yelled, pulling Draco off him to stand next to her. He let her, caught a little in confusion. "Oh my god, are you alright?"  
  
He glared up at her. "Just dandy, Hermione. Nothing finishes off my day until I'm attacked by a psychotic blonde ferret." He pushed himself to his elbows. "My knee hurts."  
  
"Malfoy," Hermione started, turning to him and nudging him in the shoulder. "What was all that for?"  
  
He looked at her, confused. "What?"  
  
"Ron." she told him, helping her friend up from the floor. "You're a bit paranoid, Malfoy, and you attacked Ron."  
  
"Yeah, don't you remember anything?" Ron snapped, earning a hit on the shoulder from Hermione. "He's completely lost it, Hermione! Why can't you see that?"  
  
"What?" Draco asked again, not paying attention to the conversation. His head was still stuck in the dream, and he couldn't look Ron in the face without seeing the trail of blood on his face.  
  
****  
  
"They're all dead," Harry muttered, staring around himself. "All of them."  
  
"Of course they are," Crystal answered, moving to stand beside him. "They were destined."  
  
"How?" Harry asked, throwing out his hands out to indicate the lifeless bodies. "How is this destiny? How can so many people lying dead have any purpose for destiny?"  
  
"Because of you," she replied, as if it was the most obvious reason. Harry was flabbergasted.  
  
"What? How-how is any of this my fault?"  
  
She stared hard at him. "It is no one's fault, Harry. But it was you who did cause it. By taking the Triwizard Cup on your own, you took a different path than the one who did before. Different path, different sacrifices. Would you rather have everyone you know murdered than just Cedric? It is a tough decision, I know; but it was what had to be done."  
  
"Murdered," Harry repeated, taking a step forward and looking down at the blank faces. "Murdered."  
  
"Yes. Murdered by Bartemius Crouch Jr. under the disguise of Alastor Moody," Crystal informed him. Harry was in shock.  
  
"He killed all of them?"  
  
She nodded. "Aye; and he did it because he was assigned too. Once you had taken the Cup, he was ordered to exterminate the entirety of Hogwarts once Cedric stepped out of the maze. He had a few followers waiting at his beckoned call to attack when he gave the signal. When Cedric did not emerge, Crouch panicked and dispersed his followers, saying that the Dark Lord had risen and to go to his aid. But no one was to be left alive. And that is what has happened here; this is what you would have returned to had you gone alone and not with Cedric."  
  
"It's a massacre," Harry breathed, stepping forward once more. His other self, the one who belonged in this world, was oblivious to both him and the Oracle. He was looking around wildly, as if anxious to find someone. "What am I looking for?" Harry asked, watching his other self pull out his wand, just in case. He then ran off, sprinting through the mess of bodies and weaving his way to a specific place.  
  
"Why don't you find out," Crystal suggested into his ear, and then faded away into nothing.  
  
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He launched out into a sprint, following the other Harry through the night. It was a while before either slowed down; and when they did, it was near the place where the Whomping Willow was located. There were fewer people here, considering that everyone was at the Third Task; it was amazing that these few had escaped this far.  
  
Then, with a jolt, Harry noticed what was set before him. He was still too far to see the faces of the people, but the fact that there were only seven bodies struck him as coincidence. He walked closer, and there was a pain in his throat as he caught sight that six of the people had flaming red hair. The seventh's was bushy brown. He stopped walking.  
  
His other self continued forward and dropped to his knees when he got to them. He hunched over; and though Harry couldn't see it, he knew that the other Harry was crying.  
  
"You can go on ahead if you wish. Look upon their faces to confirm your fear. In all your sanity, however, I advise that you don't," Crystal whispered in his ear, appearing behind him with nothing more than a rustle of the wind.  
  
"They would have gotten this far?" Harry asked back, his voice deathly silent. He tilted his head back but did not look at her.  
  
"Yes," she replied. "They would have been the ones closest to escaping. They put up a fight, all of them. They were determined to live on." She paused. "They died fighting."  
  
"I don't want to see this anymore," Harry said firmly. "I won't take this anymore." He turned around to face Crystal, expecting to see her dark eyes and amazingly find comfort in them; but instead he saw blue eyes. Bright blue eyes that stared at him in confusion.  
  
"What's wrong, Harry? You look like you've seen a ghost?" asked the girl, but it wasn't Crystal. Harry's jaw dropped and he stumbled backward from the girl.  
  
"Ginny?!" he exclaimed.  
  
****  
  
"Good morrow to you, Ronald," Leo sang joyfully closing the door behind him. "I'd have expected that you wouldn't wake until the next morning." He smiled at Ron sitting on the bed.  
  
They were all back in the infirmary, Ron, Hermione, Draco and now Leo. Ron had returned to his bed to rest up better and Draco had seated himself as far away from him as he could; he had returned to the windowsill where he had been before. Since he had attacked Ron in the corridor, he had been oddly quiet and confused; the exact opposite of what he normally was. Now he was staring out the window in mystified silence, not even acknowledging Leo's presence.  
  
"I've been up for a while now," Ron updated him. "Actually, we all just got back from a little adventure to the toilet." He glared at Draco who didn't notice in the slightest.  
  
"And where did you run off to?" Hermione asked Leo from her seat next to Ron's bed. "You teleported off so quickly that you didn't even tell us what you found in the book."  
  
"Yes, I'll get to that in a moment; but first, Ron needs to eat his dinner." Leo pointed to the table behind Hermione. They both looked to find a tray with a bowl of steaming hot stew and a goblet filled with ice cold pumpkin juice. "I would think you were starving," Leo grinned, pulling out two apples from the air as he said so. He whistled to Hermione. "A snack for you," he said, throwing it to her.  
  
She caught it with ease. "Thanks," she said, but only fiddled with it and did not take a bite right away. "So, what did you find?"  
  
"Oh yes, that." Leo walked to her and suddenly pulled the gigantic tome out of his tiny pocket. She did not question it, only smiled and thought 'magic'. "Crystal prophesized everything that happened."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's what it sounds like," he said with shrug. "And it was quite some time ago too. She was going about her regular day when she suddenly went into a trance and began saying something in Ytineres. I knew it was a spontaneous prediction, so I hurried and jotted it down. Everything she has ever prophesized that is spontaneous is written in this book."  
  
"Did she say where she went? Did she say where she took Harry?" Hermione asked, getting excited. Leo shook his head.  
  
"No. But wherever they are, they are absolutely fine. She told me so in the prophecy."  
  
Both Ron and Hermione let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"So where are they?" Ron continued, taking a sip of his soup and looking down at it, surprised. "This is sweet. What's in it?"  
  
"Blossoms from the lake room," Leo answered, then waved the answer aside. "But my sister said nothing of where they went; only how they got there and that they would be fine."  
  
"How did they get there then?" Hermione interrogated, aiming for the exact right question again. Leo grinned.  
  
"By powerful magic, I must say." He looked at them with excitement, seeming proud to explain everything. "It was coincidental magic, one of the most potent spells in existence. It is one that requires an Offering, A Sacrifice and a Reason."  
  
Ron and Hermione looked at each other. "Sacrifice? A Sacrifice and Reason?"  
  
"As well as an Offering?" Hermione piped in. Leo nodded.  
  
"A person would be unknowingly offered to her; offered from time past. That offered mortal was Harry."  
  
"But how-,"  
  
"I'll get to that, Ron," Leo calmed, grinning. "From the beginning for the year, Crystal was meant to channel Harry's future. In a sense, she would become his Seer, dedicated for only a day to discover the outcome of his personal future. So, also in a sense, he was offered to her in a magical bond of the future. He was the Offering.  
  
"Now the Sacrifice may come as a bit of a shock. You, Ron, were the Sacrifice."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Yes. Crystal magical powers were building inside of her, hitting a climax greater than any she had felt before because she pent up her powers rather than release them. When they were released, they hit you with an odd force that pained you enough to die by murder, but did not kill you. The second part to the spell was that blood of a pureblood must spill, creating the air of age-old magic. The Sacrifice.  
  
"Now the last part is the Reason. There had to be a Reason for the release of Crystal's magic. There are rare times where Crystal can loose her hold like that, and this was one of those times. As she was caught in that inner struggle with her powers, anything out of the ordinary could have knocked her off her concentration. In our case, it was Malfoy. She had narrowed and set her mind to know that there were only five other people in the room with her, and upon the entrance of Malfoy, she got thrown off.  
  
"Though I don't think that's all of it," Leo added thoughtfully. "Because I've walked in on her countless times and she's never blasted me close to death. Maybe there was something else about him."  
  
He shot a wondering glance towards Draco, who hadn't heard a word any of them said and was still staring blankly out the window.  
  
"Maybe the fact that he's a slimy git has to do with it?" Ron offered, obviously still angry about the attack he had suffered earlier. "Or maybe that he's a spoiled brat who smells like dragon's dung-,"  
  
"That's enough Ron," Hermione told him firmly, looking sternly at him.  
  
Ron glared right back. "Why should I, Hermione? Haven't you noticed that you being nice to him did nothing to make him show respect to you in turn? He obviously doesn't share the same insights as you do, or else he wouldn't have made that crack about listening to girls and now he won't even look at any of us? Why should I stop, after all these years of being enemies? What good could come out of it?"  
  
"A lot of good," Hermione told him earnestly, sitting down right next to him and holding his shoulders. "Ron, you know that there's going to be trouble now that You-Know-Who is back. We all know that there will be trouble, and that Harry will need all the support he needs. How much more support could he get than that of the child of a Death Eater right in Voldemort's circle?"  
  
Ron was taken aback. "Hermione, we're talking about Malfoy!" he replied in an excited whisper. "Of all the spawn of the Death Eaters, why do we have to convert the foulest of the lot?"  
  
"Because he's here; that's why," Hermione told him. She glanced back at Draco still sitting, oblivious, on the sill. "I know he's arrogant, and rather stubborn; and he's definitely not the easiest person to be friends with-,"  
  
"No joke there," Ron muttered.  
  
"And he's certainly bipolar or something; he changes moods faster than you eat."  
  
"What does that mean?" Ron asked indignantly.  
  
"But we can try, Ron. I know it's an impossible mission, but in all honesty, I'm doing this all for Harry." She looked determinedly at him, eyes alight with animation.  
  
"You are? I thought-wait, I thought you were trying to be nice to him because of what happened in the forest. All that-what ever it was- that you two went through together and stuff, isn't that the reason you want us to all get along?" Ron pointed out.  
  
Hermione nodded, a little impatient. "Yes, yes, that's part of the reason too. But I started thinking about it, and Malfoy has practically told me, himself, that he doesn't know if he wants to be on his father and the Dark Lord's side any more."  
  
Ron snorted. "That's what he says. But why would he even have doubts? I mean, doesn't You-Know-Who hate people who worry like that? Aren't they supposed to be weak? I don't know why Malfoy would suddenly open his stupid gray eyes and see what's real right now."  
  
"It's because he's never experienced it first hand," Hermione explained. "When he showed me the Dark Mark, I knew right away that that was when he had begun to falter. In the past years the most he's known about the Dark Arts is through stories and whatever his father tells him. He's never actually been under the wand of You-." Hermione stared hard at him for a moment, struggling with something. "Of *Voldemort* before."  
  
Ron gaped at her.  
  
"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, Ron; remember that," Hermione told him strongly, though she looked rather shaken after finally saying Voldemort's name out loud.  
  
For a moment Ron was caught in a rut. He wanted to put his faith in Hermione, (goodness knew that doing so was the right thing, seeing as Hermione was never wrong), but it was hard, considering that he was being asked to basically call a truce between him and *Draco Malfoy*. He scowled at her, but shrugged anyway and muttered something that sounded a lot like, 'whatever you say'.  
  
"Great," she beamed, and looked back at Leo.  
  
"Wisely chosen words, Hermione," the boy told her, all sincerity present. "You look at things thoroughly, you do." Hermione blushed. "And that is an advantage to Harry, for you are a close friend of his. You are sensible to take in the account of Draco Malfoy, that I can be sure, for there was most certainly something odd about him that caused whatever spell to form that sent my sister and Harry away."  
  
"So this spell," Ron prodded, moving back to the beginning subject. "How did it all go into affect?"  
  
"Like I said, Ron," Leo informed, "it was a form of coincidental magic. An Offering, a Sacrifice and Reason had all occurred unintentionally at the same exact moments; an offered soul, blood of a pure line, and a reason to depart. With that, Crystal and Harry were whisked away and we were left behind."  
  
"But do you know where they are?" Hermione asked, curious once more. Leo nodded.  
  
"It took me awhile to figure it out; but in the end I was able to track down their signal."  
  
"Well," Ron urged. "Where are they?"  
  
Leo gave them both an are-you-ready-for-this glance. "They went.into Crystal's mind," he said.  
  
Ron and Hermione's eyes grew rather wide.  
  
****  
  
Harry had fumbled back a few steps, eyes filled with surprise and horror and his mind whirling with what he was seeing.  
  
"Gi-Gi-.Ginny?!" he breathed in complete astonishment, staring at the girl in front of him. She smiled back. She had the same blue eyes, the same mane of red hair, the same freckles and the same feel of a Weasley. She was beaming at Harry in the most unconcerned matter he had ever seen her. And she looked different; older, more detached.  
  
"'Course it's me, silly; who'd you think I was, Snape?" she played, speaking with Ginny's voice. She reached forward and grabbed his wrist. "Come on, Harry; Mum's been calling us for dinner and we're going to be late!" She began dragging him along, using hardly any effort yet forcing him to move nonetheless.  
  
"Ginny," Harry began, still a little blundered. "Ginny, what are you doing here?"  
  
"I live here, you dolt. Now come on!" She still spoke with an airy, carefree voice that really did not suit her at all. But as Ginny dragged him along, he noticed that he was no longer on the Hogwarts grounds, it was no longer night, and he wasn't surrounded by motionless bodies.  
  
He was near the paddock the Weasleys owned at the back of their house, amidst a dark, summer twilight and the smell of life wafting in the air. The two were hurrying down the small hillside, the many rooms of the Burrow springing up into view.  
  
But despite the realism of everything around him, Harry stopped, his wrist slipping out from Ginny's grip. She slowed down at the absence of his warmth in her hand, looking back at him and smiling a bit in befuddlement.  
  
"Harry, what are you doing?" she asked politely. Harry shook his head at her.  
  
"You're not real," he told her quietly, holding his stand. "You can't be real. This is just another of those scenes; just another place where my path could have taken me, right?" He stared, challenging her.  
  
"What are you-," Ginny began, but Harry cut her off.  
  
"This isn't funny, Crystal," Harry cried, hands balled into fists. He wished he hadn't left his wand back in his room at the tower, but he had woken up so early and had unusually forgotten all about it. The Ginny in front of him suddenly let fall her smile and cocked an amused eyebrow at her; an expression he knew she would never use on anyone.  
  
"It's not?" she questioned, speaking like Crystal yet retaining Ginny's innocent voice. "But what would you find funny?" she went on, walking closer to him. Harry remained rooted to the spot. "There are rare things that you could call funny, Harry; but let's see if we can find one out for you-,"  
  
She was face to face with him now, raising a hand and running it through his hair. Harry flinched a bit at this. Crystal was going back to her insane state again, and she was using the image of Ginny to torment him. Ginny would never do this; she wouldn't be combing her fingers through his hair, pulling closer every second, staring crazily into his eyes. Harry shut them closed, hoping to block out the advancing face of someone he knew and cared about being used by an unstable power.  
  
"Open your eyes, Harry," she told him.  
  
"No," Harry replied.  
  
"Open them," she repeated, falling to a whisper.  
  
"No," he repeated, more urgently this time.  
  
"Harry, open your eyes!" came an excited and joyous voice, very different from Ginny's; and Harry's eyes snapped open in recognition of that voice only to come face to face with none other than Cho Chang.  
  
"Cho!" Harry exclaimed, very scared at the moment. "What-how-what are you doing here?!"  
  
She only laughed quietly, tapping him on his nose. Harry wasn't exactly appreciative of this action. "I'm here to have a great night with you, Harry!" she told him, and stood back so he could see all around him. His jaw dropped.  
  
He was in the Great Hall; a Great Hall decorated exactly as it had been on the night of the Yule Ball last year. People were dancing all around as the Weird Sisters played an upbeat song somewhere to the side. The tables had been moved to the sides and only a few people were sitting at them. Among them, Harry spotted Ron, looking grim and very angry as he stared at a spot on the dance floor.  
  
"Come on, Harry. Aren't you going to ask me to dance?" Cho asked, smiling angelically at him. Harry stared at her in a rude and confused manner.  
  
"Why would I ask you to dance?" he asked bluntly. "You're here with Cedric."  
  
Cho's smile faltered. "No, Harry. You asked me to the Yule Ball first; so I came with you." But he couldn't help but notice her eyes flitter to the left, exactly where Cedric was dancing rather gloomily with Alicia Spinnet from Harry's very own house. As if feeling her gaze, Cedric looked up and caught sight of Cho-and smiled at her. Cho looked away from him quickly and blushed. Harry saw this all and did not even attempt to hide his disgust.  
  
"Now I'm glad that I really did ask you second," Harry grumbled, only loud enough so that Cho barely caught the words. She looked up at him and quickly adopted a cheery smile that did not reach her eyes. She stepped forward in attempts to take his hand, but Harry quickly pulled it out of reach. "Why don't you go to Cedric like you obviously want to; I've got to talk to-er-Ron." he snapped, trying to hide the anger in his voice, failing, and not really caring. He locked his eyes on Ron and swiftly passed Cho without so much as a scowl.  
  
He knew it wasn't the real Cho, but even if it had been, he really did not care.  
  
Weaving in and out of the many dancing couples, Harry noticed that Ron was staring coldly at a couple only ten feet in front of him. The elegant bun, the pale blue robes and the friendly eyes that flashed his way made Harry realize that it was Hermione dancing, just like the real Yule Ball, with Viktor Krum. Ron looked positively miserable.  
  
"Ron!" Harry called, not knowing why he would receive any consolation from a fake Ron. Harry could do nothing but blame it on habit. "Ron!"  
  
"Harry?" someone else answered, grabbing onto his arm. Harry whirled around to see Hermione standing next to him. "Harry, are you okay?"  
  
"Hermione," Harry replied, a bit shocked, "what is it?"  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be with Cho?" she asked, looking concerned. "I saw you just push her aside."  
  
"I'm busy right now," Harry shot back, trying to get to Ron. Hermione let go of his arm without a word.  
  
"If you're sure then," she said, but Harry wasn't listening. Someone decked entirely in white was making her way through the throng of people. From her dark hair contrasting with the brightness of her clothes, Harry knew it was Crystal right away. "Harry, what are you staring at?" Hermione prodded on, ignoring Krum tugging at her own arm. She looked to where Harry was looking and obviously showed on her face that she saw no one.  
  
"I see-," Harry began, but stopped short as Crystal smiled menacingly at him and raised a finger toward Hermione. A small ball of green light began to glow at her finger's tip as her lips began to form the words 'avada kedavra'. "Hermione, get down!" Harry suddenly cried, and pushed her out of Crystal's range.  
  
"Avada," the Oracle began, smiling all the while.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione cried, falling backward; for both had tripped one another's feet and were heading for the ground. "Harry, what-?!"  
  
"Kedavra!" Crystal cried, and the air was filled with the blinding green light.  
  
Harry could hear people screaming, crying and running all about him, but he was aware of only two things. He was sheltering Hermione from the harm with his own body and that he wished with all his heart that Ron had been spared from the spell.  
  
~Why is she doing this,~ Harry asked himself desperately. ~Why is she killing everyone I care about?~  
  
"Harry!" someone cried again, and Harry opened his unknowingly shut eyes and rolled onto his back. Sunlight fell all about his face as a face bent down towards his own. Soft, red hair fell to touch his skin and the sweet smell of apples filled his lungs.  
  
"Ginny?" he asked, confused.  
  
****  
  
"So what do we do now?" Ron asked, setting aside his empty bowl and goblet. He looked at Leo who was sitting at the foot of his bed eating what seemed to be his fifth apple.  
  
"Well, you need to rest and recover your strength. I know you feel good and dandy now, but trust me, you'll feel weaker tomorrow. It'll be funny, but after a few days you'll be up and running." He looked at Hermione. "But I think I'll be starting you on your study. You're very intellectual, so I can tell you'll go through with flying colors. Plus, I can't wait to see you in action."  
  
Hermione looked only slightly fazed. "Starting my study? Action? What am I supposed to be doing?" she asked, finishing off her first apple and throwing it into the trash.  
  
"Well, you do know that you're also here for Defense Training Against the Dark Arts?"  
  
Ron and Hermione nodded.  
  
"Well," Leo continued, "each of you will have an individual study; one that pertains to your own strengths in the field of defense. So, Crystal and I decided to offer Hermione the most mind-challenging one. It should be an easy string for her."  
  
Hermione beamed.  
  
"But what do you mean, 'in action'?" Ron asked offhandedly.  
  
"She needs to learn how to duel," Leo replied. Hermione gave a small, sudden cough.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry Leo, but we all learned how to duel in our second year. We had a-," Hermione was about to explain, but the boy politely cut her off.  
  
"A dueling club; yes, I know about that." He tapped his temple. "It's the Oracle thing. But anyway, I am aware that you know how to duel; but your skills in dueling will be put to better use once you have mastered the secrets of an Oracles duel."  
  
Leo briefly let his eyes flicker to the side, where he grinned as he noticed Draco sit up a bit straighter at the mention of his words. It was the most movement that indicated he was still alive in a long time.  
  
"What is an Oracle's duel?" Hermione broke in, obviously excited once more. Leo grinned.  
  
"Well, to tell you the truth, it's more or less like a Wizard's duel, only with a few more rules, it's a bit more cruel, and can teach you a few helpful tips."  
  
Ron and Hermione were obviously anxious to find out more.  
  
"Well," Leo sighed, having to explain something once more in the time span of ten minutes, "an Oracle's duel, which was named after us, does not require a wand; though in a mortal's case, it is essential." He couldn't help but blush shamefully at their 'are-you-absolutely-kidding-us' looks. "Hey, I'm going for the speech here. But anyway, an Oracle's duel is much fairer than a Wizard's. If your opponent is knocked to the ground, you must wait for him to recover and all that. We don't like to win being unfair. And we only can attempt the Killing Curse after your opponent can no longer fight and is within an inch from death.  
  
"But there are certain secrets to an Oracle's duel. You learn to fight with your mind and your sense other than just your magic and body. In training, a mortal could develop many talents. Well, actually I wouldn't know, but I've been able to enhance my own senses, and I shouldn't even be this strong until I'm twenty."  
  
He paused, staring apprehensively at the slightly puzzled looks on his listener's faces.  
  
"Here," he said, hopping off the bed and walking to the middle of the room, "come up here, Hermione." He beckoned her forward. "And take out your wand as well."  
  
With a perplexed look, Hermione got up and pulled out her wand from her sleeve. She walked forward so she was face to face with Leo, only five feet to separate them. Leo looked innocently up at her, pulling out a wand from his back pocket as well.  
  
"Now, I want you to shoot a spell at me. Any spell, whenever you like, and don't tell me when you're doing it." He nodded at her and then bowed his head and closed his eyes. He fell immediately silent. His hands were at his sides and he was still clutching the wand, yet his breathing was slow and deep and it looked as though he wasn't breathing at all. Hermione didn't move for a while either, though for a different reason.  
  
She wasn't quite sure what to do. Holding her wand tightly, she looked to her side and cast a glance at Draco. She might as well could have looked to a marble statue and gotten a better response. Draco was still silent and still on the window, though he was looking more tired than ever; as if he were fighting the need to sleep. He would be of no help to her.  
  
Hermione stared at him for a moment, and then shot a glance at Ron. For the first time, she actually looked dumbfounded.  
  
"What do I do?" she mouthed to Ron, her free hand holding fast to her skirt as if the material gave her comfort. Ron shrugged hopelessly.  
  
"Do what he said, I guess," he whispered. "Hit him with a hex, or a curse, or something!" He pointed to Leo, who had remained immobile.  
  
"Alright," Hermione said to herself, and she swallowed hard, looking at the boy again. She let her mind fall to the simplest curse she could think of, the Body-Binding Curse. Raising her wand silently, she gave it an elaborate swish, as was the custom for the Body-Bind, and then had hardly begun to pronounce the words when Leo raised his own wand and shouted out the counter curse.  
  
Hermione's spell hit Leo in the chest; but his arms had barely gone rigid when the spell around him released him and blew up into a thousand sparks.  
  
"It is to duel with all of your self, than only a fraction," Leo said, and bowed to her elaborately.  
  
****  
  
Ginny sprinted lightly through the corridors, running fast though not so fast as to cast her fellow students into suspicions on her hurrying; just as McGonagall had instructed her to do. She flew down two flights of stairs and then proceeded down the next corridor to her right, heading straight for the Professor's office. But as she went a long, she knocked shoulders with someone on her way.  
  
"Oh, sorry," she called faltering and looking back to properly apologize. She stopped mid-way.  
  
Pansy was before her, glaring down at her shoulder and then at Ginny in the deepest disgust, as if she had left something smelly on her robes.  
  
"And you caught me right after I showered. Now the Weasel stink will never come off me," she hissed, smirking evilly at her. Ginny only lifted her chin, determined not to let this poor excuse for a human delay her in her duties.  
  
"Not so much an insult to do me justice," she replied in a dignified tone she had thankfully learned from Hermione. "Looks like you really are nothing without Draco Malfoy's tailcoats to ride on." She was about to turn to leave when Pansy threw out her hand and tugged her back by the shoulder. "What?" she snapped at the Slytherin girl.  
  
"What do you know about Draco?" she asked abruptly, the definite look of worry in her eyes. "How did you know he wasn't here? Do you know where he went? Tell me!" She looked positively hysterical. Ginny was flabbergasted.  
  
"What are you talking about? I've no idea what you're talking about. Why would I, a respectable and faithful Gryffindor, have any idea where your precious Malfoy went?" She waited for an answer to Pansy's awkward behavior. But the fifth year only looked insulted and then composed her self once more.  
  
"No reason," she breathed, and then turned on her heel and stomped off, her high-heeled shoes clicking all the way down the corridor. Ginny stared at them in bemused disgust.  
  
"Won't she get a nasty fall when she hits that crack at the foot of the stairs," she told no one, and turned back to her own task with a smile on her face.  
  
In no time flat, however, she had reached McGonagall's office and was lighting the fire with her wand. Barely hesitating, she lifted the lid off the pot on the mantelpiece, took a handful of Floo Powder and threw it into the fire. She yelled out her father's location at the Ministry and stuck her head into the flames.  
  
****  
  
"Ginny?" Harry repeated groggily, squinting up at the silhouetted face above him. But as his vision cleared, he noticed that this girl's hair was a darker red than the Weasley's, and her eyes were bright green, not blue.  
  
"Mom?" he suddenly gasped, lifting his head in surprise to get a better look. But the girl only smiled and took his hands in hers and pulled him forcefully to his feet. With a yelp, Harry flew upward and then forward to land on his stomach, his body hitting a cold, black floor.  
  
"I'm sorry Harry, but I doubt that I will ever be a mom," Crystal whispered in his ear, and with a jolt, Harry scrambled to his feet.  
  
As he straightened up, Harry was strangely relieved to find himself back in the vast darkness of Crystal's mind, the glowing spheres hanging all about him creating a sort of bubble of safety. Turning around, Harry saw Crystal sitting in the air before him, legs crossed and long, flowing dress billowing about her. She stared at him guiltlessly. "Did you have fun?" she asked. Harry narrowed his eyes at her.  
  
"Don't bet on it," he answered backing away from her. "What the hell was all that for?" he demanded angrily. "Did you think you were being funny?"  
  
Crystal laughed. "Well of course I wasn't trying to be funny!" She grinned broadly at him. "But I must say, the way you reacted to everything was quite hilarious. Ah, to be gullible to my taunts of luxury." She shook her head at him. Harry was slowly growing furious.  
  
"Hilarious; you think I'm hilarious? What is wrong with you? And what are you on about luxury? How are any of these," he indicated the globes around them, "a luxury?!"  
  
"Do not raise your voice to me, Harry," Crystal told him, very quietly, but Harry wasn't going to be taken so lightly.  
  
"And what of it, I ask you?" he cried. "You're insane! Only someone as mental as you would call a person's horrors a luxury only because you're too demented to know what happiness really is!"  
  
They were staring at each with such intensity and power that others would have incinerated by their eyes. But between them both, Crystal's reply was much more sinister in speech.  
  
"And still you dare to defy me," she hissed quietly, her eyes darkening still. "You speak of this that you know nothing about!" And with that, she snapped her fingers and there was a great whirlwind encasing both of them.  
  
For a moment, Harry had the sensation of being transported by a portkey, but then the howling wind ended and the globes around them were gone; save for one tiny one hovering just in front of him. He stared curiously at it.  
  
Inside the scene it was night, a night in the summer on an open moor, with green grass claiming the landscape. A soft breeze fluttered through the night, and traveled over the lying girl amid the sea of green.  
  
The girl had a waterfall of dark brown hair, spilling out to intertwine with blades of grass. Her open eyes were the darkest blue, and her skin was deathly pale in the moonlight. She wore the garment of purest white, though around her middle, the flow of crimson blood stained the scene. Harry backed away, stunned.  
  
"And one other destiny for me had I not been chosen to follow the path of an Oracle," Crystal said softly, staring at her self in the globe. "Either take the other road leading to a painful death, or choose the road where death became your closest enemy and crudest friend; a role just as terrible as death. My only other choice." She looked menacingly up at Harry. "And that is why I say you have the luxury of so many choices and so many roads. It is you who does not know true happiness."  
  
And with the twitch of her finger, the globe burst into flames.  
  
A/N: Okay, so I lied. Ron doesn't see his sister; it's Harry who sees Ginny. It was one or the other and I got confused!  
Anyway, I thank you all wonderfully for your reviews and I will gladly continue writing. Hope you like this chapter, though I am sorry it took so darn long! One last thought before I give a hint to chapter thirteen, HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX IS BY FAR THE GREATEST STORY IN HISTORY!!!  
  
Coming up: More bad dreams for Draco, more psychotic Crystal for Harry, more apples for Hermione, more worries for Ginny, more explanations given by Leo, and a small emotional memory relived by the youngest Oracle that makes Ron appreciate his brothers and sister even more. Oh, and Dumbledore sleeps on. Bless the Headmaster's little cotton socks! 


	13. Apples For Hermione

Chapter Thirteen ~ Apples For Hermione  
  
Walking in a lost and aimless manner, Draco trailed behind Leo and Hermione as they spoke animatedly to one another and walked purposely through the halls. He had been caught in a haze of confusion ever since he fell through the barriers of sleep and had a disturbing dream-again.  
  
"You'll learn how to sense spells before their even given, like me," Leo was saying, "and it will be in the absence of my Oracles powers. It's by using what you have already been given." There was a pause. "Draco Malfoy already knows all this; he uses it."  
  
Draco was aware of Leo and Hermione looking back at him, but he did not look up to acknowledge them. He kept his eyes focused on the ground, not wanting to look at anyone at the moment. He was still caught in the horror that was his mind.  
  
After his last statement, the rest of Leo's words slurred together to make nothing more but a background sound to what was going on in Draco's mind. He was recalling all the dreams he had had over the past nights, trying to see if they pieced together to create a greater picture that made more sense.  
  
He had dreamt of a weak and wounded Ginny Weasley, of a dying and forgiving girl whom he had killed and did not recognize, and of Ron crying tears of blood and praising and accusing Draco of doing something Ron, himself, could not do. He partially dreamt of that night that still haunted him, where the Dark Lord chose him to fulfill his goal of the death of Harry, and greatness knew how many previous nights he'd tossed and turned to that blinding light and searing pain in his arm.  
  
But together, these dreams only seemed more mysterious, and made less sense. Maybe if he asked for help once more.--but to ask for it again would bruise his ego greatly--.then maybe he'd understand why he was mentally tormented. But one thing was for sure: he would not go to Granger with this, but keep the secret with him to the grave if he had to.  
  
"Malfoy," someone called to him, breaking his trance once and for all. He looked up to see Hermione facing him in annoyance and the smallest bit of sympathy. He hated sympathy.  
  
"What?" he said in a tiredly and very rude manner. Hermione frowned at him.  
  
"I was going to ask if you were alright, but never you mind it now," she replied, a bit hurt. Then she resorted to staring at him in complete irritation, arms folded over her chest and foot tapping impatiently.  
  
"What?" Draco shot at her, genuinely scowling now. She only rolled her eyes.  
  
"Well, would you like to go in?" she demanded waving her hand to her left. Draco followed her motion with his eyes and discovered that they were outside of his room, the door open and awaiting his arrival. He was about to say 'oh' and apologize, but caught himself in time and simple brushed past her towards his door as if he knew it were open all along.  
  
"You're welcome," Hermione replied coldly at his unspoken words. "And Leo asked me to make sure you were okay. So are you?" she added with nothing less than an air of carelessness. Draco turned to her in the doorframe.  
  
"Leo?" he repeated, looking around and noticing, for the first time, that he was no where in sight. "Where did he go?"  
  
"Oh, and I thought you were paying attention all along," Hermione grumbled sarcastically, but answering his question nonetheless. "He left us after the first corridor, saying that he had some daily business to do. I actually asked if we could accompany him, but he told me that it was very dangerous and he didn't think we would like it very much." She shrugged to herself. "Ah well, I figured we were both tired anyway." She eyed him suspiciously. "But you are alright, aren't you? In all honesty this time."  
  
Draco decided to at least be civil and nodded his head. "As alright as I'll ever be." And he slowly closed the door before she said anything else.  
  
Leaning against the door, Draco closed his eyes and thought a bit. Telling Granger was certainly out of the question. If he had to be nice and admit it, she had enough on her plate as it was. If he went to her for advice on whom to go to, she would think Dumbledore; but that old-timer was dead asleep and who knew for how long.  
  
He definitely wasn't going to run to Weasley with his dilemma, because he was sure that he would only make it worse or taunt him about it. And talking to Harry wouldn't be a bad idea, but he wasn't present at the moment and Draco still had this dull throbbing hate for him.  
  
A Mudblood, he could tolerate now, wizard disgrace, he could bear with as long as they were ten feet away; but Potter, he would always have that hidden loathing for. He wasn't sure why, but he would always have it.  
  
So that left only two people he could try talking to, Crystal or Leo Tiara.  
  
Draco immediately ditched the idea of Crystal. Though almost everyone he met became his enemy, Crystal seemed to have a great dislike for him plus a great power he did not know of yet, and he wasn't keen on making their misunderstandings greater than they already were. So then it was narrowed down to Leo.  
  
Now that was a thought.  
  
The kid actually *admired* him. How many people could Draco categorize alongside that little piece of information? Depressingly, none. But Leo had this innocence along with this neutral nature that made it easy for anyone to take a liking to him. And it only made wanting to consult him with problems easier still. Plus, he seemed to be the only one in the tower who never fought with him and whom he never fought with either.  
  
But, like his sister, he still had that hidden power thing that Draco wasn't aware of. I mean, who were they, really, if they lived in Purgatory for centuries? Were they keepers of the souls? Or were they torturers? Were they demons or angels? Were they human or not? Were they even mortal?  
  
There must have been times where they mentioned it aloud to the Golden Trio, (for obviously those three knew who they were), but Draco had probably been absent or just not listening. But what were they?  
  
Abandoning the question for a while, Draco pushed himself off the door and headed for his bed. But as he passed the window, his eyes flicked to the forest outside and he stopped immediately.  
  
Since his encounter in the forest on first arrival to this place, Draco had been able to always see Purgatory as it really was whenever he wanted to. He'd concentrate on it, and then those lonely and resting souls would appear outside. One would wonder why Draco would ever want to see those souls again, but Draco wouldn't be able to explain that after two nights of watching them, they had become terrifyingly beautiful and caught the watcher in a trance.  
  
But now there was something wrong with the picture outside his window, for one soul out there was not dead.  
  
Leo, in his too bright clothing, was venturing from the tower steps and heading in the direction of the 'forest'. Even from this height Draco could tell that his walk was determined and he could just imagine his set face. But why was he out so late in the night?  
  
Leaning closer to the glass window, Draco followed him with his eyes, his face hardly betraying his feeling of dread at what the boy was doing.  
  
If seen through the illusion, Leo was simply walking briskly into the trees; but when seen in truth, he was weaving in and out of the shadows, keeping his eyes forward and never faltering. It was good that he kept a fast and steady pace, for it seemed that the souls did not welcome him so humbly to their area.  
  
Some simply let him pass, their heads turning as they watched him go by. But others would follow him with their feet, dragging themselves in a chase to him and reaching out their hands and swiping at him. It was as if they were angry with Leo, and their attempts to grab him looked to be out of anger and revenge. It never occurred to Draco until right then that the reason for Leo's fast movements was because he was scared.  
  
"What is he doing out there?" came Hermione's voice from behind, and Draco swirled around to stare at her.  
  
"And what are you doing in here?" he demanded out of her, though his anger was barely audible above the mounting concern for Leo.  
  
"I was in the common room and noticed him out the window as well. He never said he did not go out, but I'd bet on my life that he was scared of this place. I asked Crystal yesterday about Purgatory, and she said neither of them ventured into its lands unless there was dire need, and it was always her, never her brother."  
  
"Well she clearly isn't in the mood to go out, is she?" Draco stated, turning back to the window. Hermione came up beside him, both staring down as the boy continued his rapid steps. "So I guess he has to do whatever his sister was supposed to. But if you were watching him, why are you in here?" he asked her, glancing down at her. She shrugged.  
  
"He went out of the vision of my window, so I went to the next one over, yours." She furrowed her brow. "They seem to dislike him, don't they?" she informed him, and Draco looked back outside to see what she was talking about.  
  
It was true. It appeared as though the souls held an authentic grudge against the youngest Tiara. They were pursuing him in greater numbers now, no longer dragging themselves but almost running raggedly. At first, Leo looked as though he hadn't noticed his pursuers. But soon his steps were growing with speed and he was now running through the dead land, dodging mangled trees and torn rocks, making his way somewhere very far from the tower's safety.  
  
"Do you think he's in trouble?" Hermione asked, but was droned out.  
  
Screams had filled the air around them; ringing out loud, shrill and clear. They throbbed with life in practically everything and grew louder with every second. Draco and Hermione had clamped their hands over their ears, eyes screwed shut in pain. Hermione was bent double with the murderous wails, falling to crouch against the stone wall, her hands trying in vain to muffle out the sounds.  
  
Draco threw himself away from the window in surprise from the unexpected cries. He remained standing, though it was with much effort as the screams rang out clear through his head, rendering him weak.  
  
"What's happening?" Hermione called out, mustering as much volume as she could so Draco could hear her. She opened her eyes slightly to watch him stumble towards her.  
  
"I don't know," he called back, barely perceptible even though he was blaring his words into her ear. "Do you think it could do with what's happening outside?" And then above the already earsplitting howls, a clear, pained voice broke out through the tower.  
  
"WOHS EM EFIL! SHOW ME LIFE!!"  
  
It was Leo's voice, and Hermione and Draco stared at each other in astonishment before lifting their heads to look out the window.  
  
Neither could see Leo, but not too far away in the darkness they could see a blaze of blue light; immense flames bursting from the ground. The darkened souls looked to be the ones making the horrid racket, as each had their heads turned up to the sky and were withering in an unsettling manner. But then Draco saw no more, for his vision had changed.  
  
With an echoing boom, Draco was thrown back to the stone floor, images skimming across his eyes. A girl with short, dark hair and dark eyes, standing outside the front of her house in an orange dress; now she was older, jumping on rocks in the middle of a small waterfall. She slipped on one and fell.  
  
But the scene had already changed to her in her middle teens, walking briskly through some sort of muggle high school, a black book bag slung over her shoulder and her once again short hair fanning out behind her in the wind. Then she was in a room with a mirror running along on a wall; she was dancing in the summer heat, sweat drenching her brow as her leg kicked high into the air. And now she was an adult, standing on a stage in an elegant gown, accepting some sort of gold reward and speaking into a microphone. And then she lay in her grave, her white hair set into place and her dark eyes closed from the world.  
  
"Draco!" Hermione called, and Draco snapped into a sitting position. He was breathing hard once more, grabbing onto Hermione's shoulders as they were the first things he felt. She was looking at him in fear, her brown eyes very wide and face flushed. The screaming and scenes had disappeared now, but his heart was still beating horribly fast in his chest. He was gulping down the air in attempts to calm it.  
  
"Draco, what was all that about?" Hermione gasped, hands holding his wrists. But Draco did not answer her question.  
  
"Leo," he panted, already standing up and bringing her with him. "He's not well."  
  
He turned and fled from the room, glad that Hermione was close on his heels. As they ran down through the stone cold tower, Draco new there would never be a moment where he was not terrified or where nothing went wrong whilst he stayed in Enol.  
  
****  
  
Professor McGonagall sat at the Head Table at dinner, eating along with the rest of the staff members and trying not to show her nervousness. Habitually glancing to her left, she couldn't help but get the sinking feeling as her eyes fell on the empty chair beside her. If ever there was a moment she needed the Headmaster's advice, it was now.  
  
Returning her gaze back to the students before her, McGonagall's eyes quickly fell on the red-haired girl sitting at the middle of Gryffindor table. Ginny Weasley sat amongst friends, though kept completely to her self; talking to no one and bowing her head down towards her plate. She had not yet come to the Professor and told her what news she had received from her father at the Ministry, and it was news Minerva was anxious to find out.  
  
Figuring that she rather do something useful then sit at her seat and not touch her food, Professor Minerva McGonagall stood and walked down from the table.  
  
"Poppy," she whispered, passing Madame Pomfrey on her way down the table. The kindly-faced woman turned in her seat to face the Deputy Headmistress. It was on rare occasion that the nurse of the hospital wing had the opportunity to come and eat dinner with everyone else; it was quite a treat when no one was in the wing to be taken care of.  
  
"Yes Minerva?" Poppy replied, smiling at her.  
  
"Would you do me the favors of making sure all the children return to their dormitories and that the Hall is in order at the end of dinner? I'm afraid that I've got a bit more work to finish up before the day is over."  
  
Madame Pomfrey nodded enthusiastically. "Of course I will Minerva." And with that she smiled and returned to her plate.  
  
Hurriedly, Professor McGonagall stepped down from the High Table and proceeded to where Ginny sat very quiet in the midst of the chatter of the Hall. Glancing to her right, Minerva noticed that the Slytherins were whispering together in tight-knit groups, casting suspicious glances to people at other tables and scowling at those who stared. Well, almost all the Slytherins; McGonagall was glad to see that some where keeping to themselves and smiling joyously at the others around them.  
  
Returning her attention to her task, McGonagall went straight for Ginny.  
  
"Miss Weasley," she said kindly into the girl's ear as many of the Gryffindors turned to look and smile at their Head of House. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you."  
  
Ginny started a little, but when she twisted around to look at the older woman her voice was normal. "About that thing you asked me to do?" she asked. McGonagall was grateful Ginny had the sense to not mention Ministry affairs in front of her House.  
  
"Yes, that." She nodded to her and then to the rest of the house before proceeding towards the door. Ginny set down her fork, said a hurried 'I'll see you later' to her friends, and scrambled from her seat to follow the Professor. Once in the Entrance Hall, she closed the doors behind her and turned to McGonagall.  
  
"I spoke to my dad," Ginny started right away, knowing that what she had found out would be important to Professor McGonagall. "There was a murder a while back concerning a muggle family. Actually, there were many murders, spread out across the country; all muggles," she quickly said, wanting to relieve herself of the burden of news. "Dad said the Ministry is keeping it quiet. They still don't believe anything Dumbledore says but pretend nothing's happened. My father pointed out that all the muggles have died from the Killing Curse, as the Investigative Aurors have discovered, but Cornelius Fudge just says that millions of people die every day."  
  
"He did?" McGonagall asked, appalled. She had remained quite awestruck for the first few seconds of the telling, but now spoke in an exasperated voice. "How could Cornelius be so narrow-minded!" she scolded. "To think that after all Albus has done for him, he turns the first second he gets wind that these times are changing!"  
  
"Dad told me that all the-murders-occurred in muggle bookshops and antiques stores. A link they found throughout the locations was that the murderers struck anywhere there was an old book that read Oracles on the front."  
  
Ginny noticed The Professors face pale.  
  
"But the one family that was assassinated awhile back didn't own a bookstore or was in one. They were at home, and they killed the father last. But he also had a book about oracles." She furrowed her brow at her Head of House. "Is there something going on, Professor? Any sort of clue to all this oracle business?"  
  
Minerva waved the question aside. "Is that all there was?" she asked. Ginny shook her head.  
  
"No. Dad says a lot of Ministry wizards have all disappeared, having left one day and never coming back. He did a background check on all of them and a lot of them were ones accused of having a history associated with You-Know-Who or dealing closely with the Dark Arts." She faltered a bit here. "My-my dad thinks they're organizing for something." She fell silent.  
  
Minerva let out a breath, her hand over her heart. It was true, they were planning something; and by the sound of it, something big. Looking down at the young fourth year, she nodded reverently.  
  
"Thank you, Miss Weasley. Please owl your father and tell him thank you for all the information. It has helped the Order greatly." She had just started to turn and inform Arabella, who was staying in a small hotel near the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, when she noticed the look of waiting on the girl's face. "Yes Miss Weasley?" she asked. Ginny took in a deep breath.  
  
"Professor, I'm honored to be helping with the Order of the Phoenix and all, but I feel a little left in the dark here. I'm old enough to hold my own, and I think I deserve to know about what's going on." She bit her lip, waiting.  
  
Minerva sighed. "Miss Weasley, I have no doubt that you are a very intelligent young woman and that you are well over-qualified for truth; but it is not in my power to tell you anything." She felt a pang of sadness at the crestfallen look on Ginny's face. "But when the Headmaster gets back from his-er.errand, I will request you be informed." And when she spoke her next words, they were heartfelt.  
  
"Ginny, I know that you are trustworthy not just from your family but from what I have seen with my own eyes. I think many people underestimate all of you children here, but I can tell there are many who could do with the truth, just as Albus would say. You've got both parents and two brothers in the Order along with a brother who is in close contact with Mr. Potter; not to mention a hero on his part. So I hope you can take my word that your help will not be overlooked."  
  
Ginny smiled widely at the Deputy Headmistress. "Thanks Professor," she breathed, and then turned towards the stairs. "I better get to bed then," she called back, and then stopped at the foot of the marble staircase. "Professor," she started, "if you ever need help with anything, I'd be glad to contact my father if you ever needed inside information. I won't ask many questions, but I'll help." And without waiting for a reply, she sprinted up the steps, leaving a misted McGonagall behind to dab at her eyes and then head for the great oak doors.  
  
****  
  
"Help me with these doors!" Draco shouted, taking hold of the huge iron ring on the door and pulling. Hermione slammed into the door beside him and helped to open the huge entrance. Once revealed, Purgatory glared threateningly at them. It was caught between its illusion and true self, creating a sort of hazed picture to look at.  
  
"Do you see--,"  
  
"Yes," Draco answered Hermione right away. "I can see it too."  
  
He ran out on to the steps staring about in confusion, searching for a sprig of darkened blonde hair or a gleam of snow-white color. The blazing blue fire in the distance had vanished but the souls were still crying out in agony, though their screams were at a normal volume and not resounding throughout the tower. But just when Draco was dreading the worst for Leo, Hermione grabbed his arm and pointed into the distance.  
  
"There! Leo, he's in trouble!"  
  
But trouble was an understatement. Leo looked to be in nothing short of mortal peril. He was running feebly towards the tower, his hair in disarray and his tunic torn at the sleeves and the hem. He had given up trying to hide his fear but now stole glances backward at the raging mob of tangled shadows pursuing him.  
  
It was horrible. For those souls that were not falling to the ground in anguish, they were running and flying at him from all directions. They were no longer featureless and beautiful, but bore fangs of white ivory and donned gleaming eyes of garnet red fury.  
  
He didn't know what made him do it, and he wasn't sure why he was doing it, but Draco did. Running to meet him, Leo's eyes locked on Draco coming closer and waved his arms unnecessarily. Draco nodded and ran towards him, only one thing on his mind: he had to get to him before anything else.  
  
Then Leo stumbled over his feet and hit the ground painfully. He tried to pull himself up, but he was much too weak and fell back to the ground.  
  
"LEO!" Hermione yelled from somewhere behind, and Draco was confident that if he spoke, he would mimic her petrified voice. But within seconds, Draco was beside him. He bent down and picked the small boy up in his arms without much effort, and then started back towards the tower doors.  
  
"Don't enter one," Leo panted in his arms, clutching Draco's sleeve. Draco barely had the breath to answer.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't enter one," Leo repeated, then coughed violently and fell silent, his eyes screwed shut and his breathing extremely uneven. Looking down at him as he ran, Draco noticed that he held something tight in his fist, though he could not see it. He pressed on.  
  
Hermione's small figure grew closer as he continued on, almost like a beacon of reassurance. Soon Draco could make out her dress, then her face, then her eyes, wide and fearful. They were at the base of the steps now, and Draco need only climb them and return to the safety of the stone walls. But he fumbled a bit as he missed a step and Leo's closed hand opened in surprise. A tiny, sapphire cross fell from his hand and hit the steps, making a small ringing sound as it bounced downward and stopped somewhere a bit off from where the steps began.  
  
"Reh tirips," Leo wailed, reaching over Draco's shoulder like a toddler after his rattle. Draco held onto him.  
  
"Stay here!" he commanded him, and set him down in the doorway of the tower. He turned to Hermione. "Keep him here!" he told her, and then turned back towards Purgatory once more. He knew right away that the object was of importance to Leo, though he knew also that it would be suicide to go back for it.  
  
"No, he can not get it alone," Leo protested, pulling against Hermione's restraining arms. "He can not get it alone!"  
  
"Leo, he said stay here!" she told him, and pulled him farther into the doorway as both watched Draco head towards the blue cross lying on the ground.  
  
He had barely snatched the jewel up when he felt the presence of something standing behind him. Right away his heart seized as he knew that the being was neither Leo nor Hermione. Turning his head to look up at the intruder, Draco's eyes met that of the darkened shadow of a soul. He had but a split second to even think of darting away when the soul fell purposely forward over him.  
  
"DO NOT ENTER ONE!" Leo screamed somewhere far off, but it was a plea insignificant to what Draco felt it.  
  
It was as if his own soul was being ripped out of him, literally. He could feel it tugging at his every being, feel the pain as the strain on his limbs and torso increased. No scenes flashed through his mind, but a dull cold engulfed him slowly, like small icicles digging into his flesh. It was agony, it was an artic wound, it was a fate worse than death by all means accountable.  
  
But from somewhere in the rolling pain, Draco felt a warm hand take hold of the front of his collar and yank him forward, where he fell into a pair of aiding arms.  
  
"If you can, run," Hermione yelled into his ear, and he could do nothing but obey her. He stumbled over ledges of stone he knew as steps, one arm holding on mercifully to Hermione's shoulders. Then the ground under his feet leveled suddenly and he felt himself being guided past the doorframe and then slammed into the wall. One of Hermione's hands was holding him upright by pushing his chest as the other whipped out her wand and closed and locked the great doors with a quick flicking motion.  
  
Blinking rapidly to rid himself of the strange haze floating over his eyes, Draco noticed Leo lying on the ground a little ways away from him. He was spread-eagled on his back, breathing vigorously though now not so uneven. With the nervousness and sudden rush absent, Draco could see that there was a fine trickle of blood tracing a line down the boy's face and from under his hair and cheek and arms were darkening with bruises. Other than a momentary coughing fit, he seemed fine.  
  
"Malfoy," Hermione's voice said, now both hands holding onto his shoulders and guiding him as he slid down the wall. "Malfoy, are you alright."  
  
It surprised even Draco that he had enough energy to glare at her and mutter a perfectly sarcastic, "Yes."  
  
"He's not alright," Leo suddenly cried out from the floor. "Hermione, revive him!"  
  
"But he's awake already," she began to protest, but the boy would have none of it.  
  
"Revive him!"  
  
Never before had Leo looked so angry, with his cheeks flushed red from both running and rising anger and how his eyes literally blazed with fire. Turning her wand directly to Draco's chest, Hermione performed the Reviving Spell.  
  
"Enervate!"  
  
With a small rush of breath, Draco could feel all the strength he had lost flood back into him. Shaking away his blurred vision, Draco pulled himself straighter, letting his legs hold him up and not Hermione.  
  
"There was really no reason for that," he muttered, gently moving Hermione's hand away as both stared at Leo as he began to calm down. "I wasn't hurt as badly as you."  
  
Leo coughed. "You're right; you weren't hurt as badly as I was. You were hurt worse." He leaned back against his arms, the blood flow from his head increasing drastically. "You were hurt much worse."  
  
"Leo, that looks like a nasty gash," Hermione said gently, though her words were pointless. Leo had quite an array of nasty gashes. "I haven't learned healing yet, but I could bandage it up for you if you like."  
  
But the boy shook his head vigorously mid-sentence. "Don't-," he started to say, then fell into a coughing fit.  
  
"Then go to the lake room. Leo, I don't know what happened, but you're not at all in good health!"  
  
But he held up a hand to her and shook his head, trying to cease his coughs long enough to speak. "No need," he was able to get out. "Just wait for a minute."  
  
"But Leo-,"  
  
"Just. Wait."  
  
There was a brief pause of silence.  
  
Then it happened in no time less than a second. If you blinked, it would have been done with even before you thought of opening your eyes. The blood gathering at the base of Leo's neck from his hair vanished. The bruises forming all over his body disappeared abruptly and every other gash or scratch or injury melted away into nothing. His torn clothes were restored to normal and he looked just as radiant and flawless as ever.  
  
"Okay, I'm alright now," he said, hoisting himself to his feet and dusting off the back of his trousers. "I was a little weak, so it took me a while to heal myself."  
  
"Right," Draco and Hermione said together. Hermione was a bit surprised but Draco looked not at all irked in any way. Naturally it would not, as the Dark Lord had done the exact same thing to him that one day at the edge of the lake back at Hogwarts.  
  
"That didn't go exactly as I planned it to," Leo muttered to himself, holding onto his head as if it pained him. He looked up at the other two a bit sorrowfully. "I'm sorry about that; it wasn't supposed to be so.terrible. Ah, but it's my fault for it because I should have put up the shield once I got wind. But since it's me, I would have naturally thought that I was old enough to hold my own. I've only myself to blame."  
  
Draco wasn't sure about Granger, but nothing Leo said made any sense to him whatsoever. Staring quizzically at the boy, he let him rant on about whatever it was he was frustrated with.  
  
"And now I have nothing to show for my poor attempts at bravery. Ay me, this is not good at all. I've lost the jewel," Leo sighed, and shook his head in defeat. But Draco stopped him short of his self moaning.  
  
"You didn't lose the jewel," he told him, holding out his hand. "I got it."  
  
And sure enough, there lay the sapphire blue cross set amongst the paleness of his skin. It gleamed merrily, and when his eyes saw it, Leo's face lit up not in happiness, but in the purest shock.  
  
"This is impossible!" he exclaimed, snatching the gem from Draco's hand and examining it to be genuine. Draco was slightly offended.  
  
"It was impossible for me to get a piece of jewelry? Well, wasn't that just an ego booster for me?"  
  
"No, no," Leo wailed, waving the thought aside and tearing his eyes away from the gem and to the other boy's grey ones. "You know too little to understand. How on earth could you, a mere mortal, pick up a human spirit without burning? This makes no sense! I mean, no one can hold a spirit but a Prodigy child. No one is born with that immunity unless." Leo suddenly looked flabbergasted, his voice slowly fading away into deep thought. He then turned on Hermione, surprise gone only to be replaced by curiosity.  
  
"Yes?" she prodded, detecting a question from his searching gaze.  
  
"Hermione, does he know what we are? I mean, does Draco know what Crystal and I are?" he asked. Draco cocked an eyebrow.  
  
"What does that mean? You're brother and sister."  
  
"Be quiet, Malfoy," Hermione shot at him, and then returned to speaking with Leo. "Of course he knows nothing; Dumbledore said it was a secret!"  
  
Draco scowled. "That's just cruel, Granger. I do know some things."  
  
"Off the point," Leo politely told him, and then went to Hermione once more. "But now he needs to know. Hermione, Draco shouldn't have been able to hold this cross, this I know is true. He should have been burned and wounded badly, but he's not. He was hurt, yes, but not physically. I will tell him."  
  
"Tell me what?" Draco demanded, anger bubbling inside him now. Leo's look was grave; much too grave for a boy so young.  
  
"About the Oracles of Prodigy."  
  
****  
  
Crystal planted both her feet back onto the ground, staring almost murderously at Harry from the other side of the blue flames crackling and falling from the air between them. The look she gave him was one she had never used before. It was accusing.  
  
"It is you who does not know true happiness," she repeated, shoulders falling a bit. Then she lost her accusation for him and looked at him almost sorrowfully. "And I'm afraid you never will."  
  
Harry said nothing.  
  
She shook her head at his silence. "Ay then, let's get this over with." She walked forward, right through the flames and still closer until she was but a foot away. She was as tall as Harry, maybe even an inch taller. Staring into her eyes, Harry noticed that the blackness of her pupils was consuming her focus again. He stepped back, prominently.  
  
"What are you doing?" he demanded, eyes narrowed and rudeness apparent. Crystal looked a bit hurt.  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you or play mind tricks on you anymore. I'm going to foresee your future."  
  
Harry actually let out a laugh, even though it was hauntingly hollow and mocking. "Don't worry? Don't worry?! Of course I have to worry! This is you we're talking about; you have yet to show me that I need not worry when you are around."  
  
"You're being incredibly difficult," she replied sadly, crossing her arms and leaning into one hip. Harry stared at her.  
  
"Please tell me that was a joke," he told her. She shrugged, brow furrowed.  
  
"How is that a joke?"  
  
"Because I'm not the one being difficult, Crystal Tiara. You've been nothing but difficult! You've tormented me half of my fifth year, you've tortured me within the walls of Hogwarts, you've depressed me more than anything, you've trapped me within your own mind, and recently tormented me with disturbing images of would-be past memories! Difficult is an understatement for you! You're not difficult, you're crazy!"  
  
Crystal rolled her eyes dramatically and threw her hands up in emphasis. "Well naturally," she cried. Harry was taken aback somewhat.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well of course I'm crazy; we've established that a long time ago. But could you please get over that because I need to see your future." She stepped forward to close the distance between them, but Harry only stepped back further. "Would you stop being a baby about this and hold still?"  
  
"I'm not being a baby," Harry protested strongly. "I just don't trust you."  
  
Crystal gave him an annoyed look. "And that's a reason to keep running away from me?" Harry's jaw dropped.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Well, that's just ridiculous." Crystal pointed a finger at Harry's chest, shifting her weight and tapping her toe impatiently. "I'll give you to the count of five to get over here or else you've forced me to do this to you," she told him in almost a leisurely manner. Harry stiffened at her outstretched finger.  
  
"I'd force you to do what?" he asked. She shrugged, aggravated that his question was irrelevant to her and of no importance.  
  
"Does that matter?"  
  
"It does if my life depends on it," Harry told her monotonously.  
  
Crystal rolled her eyes again. "You life won't depend on it.per say- ,"  
  
"That's not convincing."  
  
"I was joking," Crystal replied bluntly.  
  
Harry returned the bluntness happily. "That's not convincing either."  
  
"You know, you're not the easiest person to convince," Crystal observed.  
  
"And probably not the easiest person to live with either," Harry inserted. "But you're not exactly the girl-next-door."  
  
"I'm not on trial here."  
  
"Neither am I."  
  
"In a sense, yes you are," Crystal noted thoughtfully. "But never mind that; we're off the subject. Come here."  
  
"No."  
  
"Enough stalling; come here."  
  
Harry's jaw tightened. "No."  
  
"I'm not fooling around anymore, Harry. Now come here."  
  
"And I said, quite clearly if I can recall, no."  
  
Crystal's eyes flashed dangerously. "You're pushing your luck. One."  
  
Harry's body tensed at the number, face struggling to hold onto his decision and pride. "You wouldn't hurt me."  
  
"If I was sane," Crystal noted in mock thoughtfulness. "Which you can't be sure I am at the moment, so I suggest you just come here now. Two."  
  
"Well it's not like you could blame me for being a little-startled-by you. I mean, you're pretty scary."  
  
Crystal's hand flew to her chest in a dramatic and exaggerated feign of flattery. "Oh, you really think I'm pretty?" she asked in a false, high- pitched voice. "Well that's just darling of you." Then it returned to its normal tone, all annoyance and aggravation audible. "And please save me your pride, Harry. You're scared of me and you know it. Now do as I ask. Three."  
  
"How high are you counting?"  
  
"Wouldn't you like to know?"  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. "You know, answering a question with a question is really annoying."  
  
"So is someone like you defying someone like me. Four."  
  
Harry crossed his arms, all set for staying where he stood.  
  
"Honestly! You are incredibly stubborn! And for someone who has a lot of run-ins with death, you sure do ask for it," Crystal spat, her other hand on her hip. Harry eyed her finger warily.  
  
"You wouldn't kill me," he stated plainly. The Oracle shrugged.  
  
"Maybe not; but I know about a hundred other things I could do to you that could be worse-if you don't just get over here. Five."  
  
"How high are you counting to?" Harry repeated.  
  
"Five."  
  
And then everything went a very violent shade of blue and white.  
  
****  
  
Draco just stood there in the entrance way, leaning back against the cold, stone wall and stared, in an almost bored manner, at Leo standing a little bit in front of him. Hermione was drifting somewhere at his side, but she was really of no importance to him at the moment.  
  
"So.you're an Oracle of Posterity or something?" he asked lamely, furrowing his brow, slightly confused and slightly bemused. Leo only sighed heavily and massaged his forehead.  
  
Both Leo and Hermione had just finished explaining to Draco who and what the Oracles of Prodigy were and how Leo and his sister's roles in life affected everyone in the entire universe. But try as they might, they weren't able to make it sound important enough to make the blonde-haired teen even slightly miffed.  
  
"Prodigy, Malfoy; they are the Oracles of Prodigy," Hermione hissed at him through clenched teeth. His uninterested attitude somehow made her very irritable and it took all her discipline not to just smack him in the head and go to bed.  
  
"Yeah, Prodigy.whatever. But I still don't get it; why didn't you just tell me all this in the first place?" he asked. Leo shrugged sarcastically.  
  
"Oh, I don't know Mr. Draco Malfoy. Maybe it has to do with the fact that my sister and I are the most powerful beings alive and if someone ever found out about us, say Lord Voldemort for instance, then they could probably come up with a plan cunning enough to retrieve the Present and alter one life in the entire cosmos and plunge all of man kind into oblivion!"  
  
Draco cocked an eyebrow. "But you're supposed to be 'the most powerful beings alive'; how can a mere human take the present from you?"  
  
"I told you that already," Hermione answered him. "Just because they hold the existence of everything on their shoulders and that they were granted half of immortality doesn't mean that they're not human when it comes to cunning, intelligence and the like. He's still a little boy, even though he is well beyond his own level."  
  
Draco turned to her, rather jaded. "You do realize that neither Leo nor I have any clue to what you just said?"  
  
"Shut up Malfoy," she grumbled. Draco couldn't help suppress a grin.  
  
"But none of this bothers you? None of this surprises you in any way?" Leo asked him, a little flabbergasted. Draco shrugged.  
  
"Well, yes it is a surprise and yeah, it may bother me a little, but what do you want me to do about? Even if I wanted to change it, I can't, right?"  
  
Hermione's jaw fell. "Oh! And where was all this maturity every time you brutally attacked Harry and Ron about who they are?! Why not just leave them to be what they want to be instead if humiliate them to change?"  
  
"Don't go off the subject, Miss Granger," was his only reply, speaking horridly like Snape. Hermione only rolled her eyes as Draco turned back to Leo. "But all I would really like to know is what happened out there." He jabbed his thump towards the door and Leo blushed horridly.  
  
"I was being foolish really, that's basically it." But noticing the blank looks on both his listeners faces gave him the impression that he needed to elaborate a bit more. "It was judgment day for one of the souls out there," he went on. His last statement made a considerable amount of emotion cross both faces, grey eyes and brown. He continued.  
  
"When a judgment happens, an Oracle must always be present. They have to be there because only my sister and I can open the gates of Heaven and Hell. Then we seek out the individual being judged and recall their life, as in seeing past memories and the sort. This particular girl who was judged today was very interesting." He began to chuckle. "She had this one memory where she was hopping on rocks near a waterfall and she-,"  
  
"-slipped and fell into the water. Her shoe got lost in the current and her father had to carry her home," Draco finished. Hermione and Leo stared at him.  
  
"Yeah," Leo answered, loosing the grin that had momentarily taken his features. "Yeah.how did you know?"  
  
Draco stared blankly at him. "I'm not sure."  
  
Leo only shrugged it off for the moment. "Good enough answer for me. Well anyway, an Oracle has to judge where the soul goes by basing it on their life. If they lived a good and prosperous life, then they go to Heaven. If they lived a horrid and evil life, they go-well, you get the idea. But wherever the soul goes, the spirit stays here with the Oracles. That's what this jewel is." He held up the blue cross.  
  
"The spirit takes on the shape of a symbol that represents the person we take care of it here. You know all those gems and stones in strange shapes in my sister's library? Those are all spirits. Quite a number of them, I'd suggest. There's so many because there's a judgment every night. When you go to bed, we're still working.  
  
"But I was so keen on keeping it because a spirit cannot be left unaided and unguarded. Get your hands on a spirit, you could call back the owner of it from Heaven or Hell and switch them to go opposite from where they came. Dangerous, if it came to it. Suppose someone held a grudge and sent a Heaven-sent soul to Hell. Not a good thing. It could cause a lot of chaos." Leo faltered a bit. Then he grinned faintly. "Actually, a lot of things here in Enol can cause a lot of chaos."  
  
His grin did not reach his lips, let alone his eyes.  
  
"But why were the other souls so hostile towards you?" Hermione asked, moving towards the stairwell and sitting gracefully onto the step. Draco hadn't noticed until then, but she had a satin cloak of white wrapped about her shoulder, making her brown hair look silken and dark. "Why did they act like that if you always go out there?"  
  
Leo bit his lip. "I'm not the one who usually goes to a judgment." His gaze wandered.  
  
"Why don't you go to judgment?" Draco asked in sincere curiosity. Leo sighed.  
  
"Well, the souls don't like me for a specific reason. It's because I'm the second Oracle, and because I can see the past. It's mostly those who cry blood that hate me. When I come near them, they receive flashes of their past lives and of course if they're waiting to enter Hell, they're lives can't be very pleasant. There are also some whose lives were cut short by-by-by murder. They don't want to see flashes of that in their waiting time either. And souls can still hurt, as Draco has just recently experienced."  
  
"When it entered me," Draco replied. His tone was rather solid and cold, though in his mind he was comprehending when Leo cried out not to enter one. "They fight to take over, don't they?"  
  
"Aye. They enter and try to push your soul out so they can take your body. It happened to me when I was three and Crystal took me on my first judgment. I was weak in bed for a month. We thought it wasn't a big deal, but there are still things that even Oracles need to learn the hard way. There are scars within when a soul is being ripped from a body; scars that never heal quickly enough."  
  
He suddenly looked glazed in the eyes.  
  
"Harry Potter has a scar from the inside, yet it is visible also to the outside."  
  
Draco stood up straighter at this and Hermione sat up in pretty much the same alarm as Draco.  
  
"What did you say?" Hermione asked, but Draco's question was a better one by far.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked. Leo's focus suddenly came back and he shook his head violently.  
  
"Never mind what I said or what I meant. I was lost for a moment there. But to the point, the souls hate my guts. And when I go out there, they basically want to destroy me. They blame me for their bad memories, and so if they take revenge on me, they think they're taking revenge on their past."  
  
Looking past Leo, Draco could see the horrified look on Hermione's face. If he wasn't brought up so disciplined, he would have had the same one.  
  
"Leo, do they touch your sister at all?" she prodded.  
  
"No. They don't think it's her fault, even if she is the one that practically mapped out their lives. But they fear her; and I don't blame them one bit. She mostly takes care of this business. I just hope she comes back soon, so I don't have to anymore."  
  
But in all good humor, he smiled and shrugged, clutching the cross in his pale fingers.  
  
"Wow, that's too much misery for myself to handle! We better get to bed now for it's later than what is right. Sorry for my swift exit, but I'll see you in the morning!"  
  
And before either of them could stop him, he was gone in a shimmer of light, leaving abruptly with no sense of closure.  
  
****  
  
Outside in Enol the sun had already taken his climb into the sky and was splashing it's sunlight on everything in sight. The emerald trees glistened as though sprinkled with crystals and the small stream running along one side of the ancient tower spouted merrily. The day was a glorious sight.  
  
But not to all people.  
  
"Not yet. Just give me twelve more hours," Hermione grumbled, pulling the covers over her head to block out the sunlight. She spoke to no one in particular, but only to the offensive ball of light hanging in the sky. But it seemed that the sun took heed to no one's plead, but instead kept on shining, seeming to pulsate the phrase 'Get up!" every time she opened her eyes to see if it had gone.  
  
"Alright, alright; I surrender," she whined, throwing the covers off of herself. She sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her stomach gave an unceremonious grumble making Hermione clutch her stomach in annoyance. "Well, that's not very comfortable. I wish I ate something last night--," she complained, but when she opened her eyes fully she smiled at what she saw.  
  
Sitting on her nightstand sat three plump, red apples on a silver plate. Standing next to them was a high goblet and a silver envelope under it addressed to her specifically. Her smile only growing, Hermione reached for the envelope and broke the seal. Leo's voice floated out of it in the form of blue and white lights, the very essence of the little boy.  
  
"Good morning Hermione, I hope you slept well. I'm sorry I left rather suddenly last night, but a spirit needs direct attention once leaving their body, so I had no time to dawdle. But as I was working with it, I remembered that you didn't eat anything for dinner last night, and that you'd probably feel it in the morning. So I took a time out of my work to drop by the lake room and grab you these three apples. One to satisfy, one to fill and one to savor. When you're fed, watered and cleaned, meet Ron, Draco and myself in the infirmary. Well, that's it." And without another word, the lights zoomed around the room and crashed into each other with a festive array of lights and shapes and slowly faded away.  
  
"Will do then," Hermione replied, picking up an apple and saluting the ceiling with it.  
  
She then spent the next hour between a cross of getting ready and devouring the tasty treats. Nothing more than a quick shower and rummaging through her dresser was enough to get her looking clean and fresh, save for her hair falling around her face. Snatching the ribbon from off her night table, Hermione threw her hair into a quick bun; a habit ignited by her mother's own mannerisms. By this time she had just finished her final fruit and couldn't have felt fuller. Draining the last of the goblet's ice cold water, she set it back down and left her room, hurrying down the stairs, through the 'common room' and out the 'portrait' door.  
  
****  
  
"You look like dragon dung," Leo said, surveying Draco with a furrowed brow.  
  
"Thanks. Always good to hear such nice compliments early in the morning," he answered, throwing his head back and draining his butterbeer. He sat in his regular spot in the infirmary; as far away from everyone on the windowsill.  
  
Leo shrugged, not so much irked as tired. "Well, would you have me lie or say the truth?"  
  
"Yeah Malfoy," Ron piped in, leaning his head back against the headboard. "The truth hurts."  
  
"Not as much as me cracking this bottle over your head," Draco mumbled, setting his bottle down onto the floor and facing the window. Thankfully, it seemed that neither Leo nor Ron heard him.  
  
"Draco, can I ask you something?" Leo questioned from the floor. Upon arriving, he had walked in, greeted Ron and Draco, and then slowly laid himself on the stone floor. Watching him with speculation, Ron had asked what was wrong. With little more than a monotonous drone, Leo explained that he was not sleepy but immensely tired, therefore unable to keep himself sitting up let alone standing. He hadn't moved since he entered.  
  
"No," was Draco's reply.  
  
"Good. Is the reason why you look so terrible due to the undeniable fact that you were plagued with bad dreams last night?" The question couldn't have sounded better than from the mouth of a fatigued ten-year- old. But on his part, Draco only shot him a cold glare.  
  
"I said no."  
  
Leo blinked. "So?"  
  
"He's got you there, Malfoy," Ron injected, yawning widely.  
  
"And I got yours right here, Weasley," Draco hissed silently, closing his fingers into a tight fist. Once again, it seemed no one had heard him.  
  
The reason for Draco's nasty morning mood was because Leo was basically right about him being plagued with bad dreams. Except this time, there were none involving him. He had seen people and places that he couldn't even imagine seeing before. Some were of wizards and witches, others of muggles. None of these dreams seemed to have anything in common, however, except for one thing: they were all terrible.  
  
They could have been nightmares or they could have been unwanted memories; whatever the case, they had kept Draco tossing, turning, waking up in a cold sweat and falling back to unsettled sleep all night long. When he had received his morning breakfast and invitation to the infirmary, it had been unwanted and unappreciated.  
  
"Were they like the ones you've had before or were they new? Oh! Was there fighting and gore and death?" Leo pressed on, sounding like a little boy excited over a new action movie. Surprisingly, both Draco and Ron shot him astonished looks.  
  
"What?!" they both asked indignantly, both much too concerned with Leo to get heated that they had said the same thing at the same time. Leo looked at them innocently.  
  
"What?" he asked, as though his question had been no more ordinary than asking about the weather.  
  
Ron looked a bit flabbergasted. "Who asks someone that?" he blurted out, shocked by the bluntness of the boy. "You've got to admit, it's a bit harsh to nag someone about nightmares; even if they are Malfoy's. Actually- no.no, never mind. It's just Malfoy. He doesn't matter." And with that, he closed his eyes in satisfaction, too late to see the very rude signal Draco had flashed at him from across the room.  
  
"That's not very nice," Leo scolded, brow furrowed, as he gazed at Draco from his place on the floor. The other boy did nothing more than shrug.  
  
"Neither is he, for that matter," he injected. Sighing heavily, Leo let the subject fall.  
  
"Whatever you say; but to the point. How were your dreams? Were you yourself or were you watching through another's eyes? Did you do the bad stuff or were the bad stuff done to you; or maybe someone else? Oh, and I was wondering if you dreamt about the soul--,"  
  
"Shut up," Draco replied, turning back towards the window.  
  
Leo sighed. "Come on Draco Malfoy, I just want to--,"  
  
"Shut. Up." He glared at him then; hard. It was much too intense to disobey, so Leo quieted down and didn't mention the dreams for the rest of that day.  
  
For a while there was only silence, two thirds uncomfortable and one third fatigue. Ron sat on his bed, Draco stared fixedly out the window and Leo lay motionless on the floor. The silence was a tad long, but was graciously broken by Leo's rumbling stomach.  
  
"Oh.that doesn't sound very good does it? I feed everyone but myself in this place," he mumbled good-naturedly. "Well, Hermione should be here any minute, but I need something to eat." And with that, he dissolved into his usual flurry of lights and sank through the floor. At that exact moment, Hermione came through the infirmary door dressed in the common frock that Crystal liked her in. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and the slippers Leo had set out for her shone with tiny diamonds, (why, she hadn't the slightest clue). But no one saw this for no one looked up.  
  
"Hey," Ron grumbled from the bed. He had pulled the covers over his face and didn't seem in the mood to even face her. This, however, was a level up to the absolutely no greeting that Draco shot her way. But still unsatisfied with Ron's less than enthusiastic welcome, she rolled her eyes and closed the door behind her.  
  
"Happy to see that your alive too," she replied, walking for his bed and resolving to ignore Malfoy as he was obviously doing to everyone. It didn't bother her though; there's just so many times you can endure something before it just becomes second nature next to breathing. "Where Leo?"  
  
"Gone-eat-little tyke does that a lot," he answered. Hermione reached him and yanked the blanket from his face. Ron squinted from the morning sun and glared up at her. "Cruel and unusual punishment for someone who should be dead," he complained, which was immediately followed up with a low and rather entertained laugh from the window. Both Ron and Hermione looked over to where Draco sat motionless save for the sinister grin across his face.  
  
"Why are you laughing?" Hermione asked him.  
  
Draco didn't turn around when he answered. "For the first time in all his life, Weasley is right about something."  
  
Said Weasley frowned at him. "And that would be what, may I ask?"  
  
"That you should be dead."  
  
Just then, Leo dissolved back into the room. He was back on the floor, looking as though he hadn't moved in the first place. The only difference was that he was now eating a small, plump, and perfectly red apple.  
  
"You look happy," Hermione told him, thoroughly ignoring Ron and Draco's death glares. Leo nodded.  
  
"This is my tenth one," he informed her.  
  
At this, Ron broke from his death glare with Draco to focus his attention on the boy. "Are you serious?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It hasn't even been two minutes!" For some reason, he looked very much disturbed by all this. "Leo, can I ask you something? Ever since we came here, all I ever see you really eat are apples from the lake room. You always have one in your pocket, you're always nibbling on one at mealtimes and you give one to everyone for practically everything. Next to myself, I've never seen anyone eat so much, especially of one thing. What is with your obsession with apples?"  
  
Draco stared at the red-haired boy. "Do you realize that none of that really matters to anyone and the information Leo could respond to it would do so much good to all of us as a book is to Crabbe and Goyle?"  
  
Hermione furrowed her brow. "You do know you just insulted your own friends."  
  
"You don't say a word and I won't either," Draco told her monotonously.  
  
Leo shrugged from the floor. "Do you really want to know? Oh alright then; if you really have to know. But I'll forewarn you that it's a bit boring and kind of ridiculous. Anyway, since I was little, my sister used to take care of me like I was the only thing that mattered in the world. She was with me at all times and the most time we wasted was in the lake room. One day, as we sat next to the water's edge, she orbed over two apples, giving me one and saying that she would leave the entire world behind just for me. At that moment I think I was the happiest.  
  
"Well anyway, not but a couple years after that was when she discovered the intensity of her powers; and I, well, I wasn't exactly the center of her universe anymore. Not that she completely disregards now. She's gotten a lot better in fact; but before I was just a burden in her way. But ever since that day in the lake room, I've become addicted to those apples. Maybe it's because they remind me of a time when I was content; when my sister cared a lot for me. I like them because they remind me of a time that I long for."  
  
Leo looked up at Ron at that point.  
  
"So Ron, I shared a memory with you, so I think you should pay me back. Tell me a memory of how much you love your sister."  
  
Awkward silences are the worst kinds.  
  
But thankfully, this one didn't last very long because out of absolutely no where, the most tremendous sonic boom sounded throughout the entire tower, shaking the structure dangerously. Everyone in the infirmary jumped to their feet, alarm on even the youngest Tiara's face.  
  
"What in Hell was that?" Ron cried as the orb in the wall went haywire with color and flashing lights.  
  
Leo gulped. "In here, a more accurate question would just be 'What Hell was that?', but I'm not one to be judgmental."  
  
"Um--," Hermione started. "Maybe it's just me, but does anyone else think we should go find out what that was? It sounded like it came from somewhere near the base of the tower."  
  
Leo nodded urgently as the tower began to quiver as an aftershock. "Yes, you're correct there Hermione. By the vibrations and force of the reaction, the dungeon is the only logical place for the epicenter to be. Look, I don't want to risk leaving anyone up here alone and Ronald is in no shape to go gallivanting about the tower. So you and Draco are going to have to go by foot while I teleport Ron and myself. Don't worry though, we'll travel beside you instead of ahead. It's better to find things out in a group and not individually."  
  
****  
  
Crystal slammed into the dungeon's floor on her side, every bone in her body screaming out in agony. She had known that revealing someone's future by command and not by right of way was dangerous, but she had never felt that danger at this extremity before.  
  
But in the strangest way, Crystal couldn't remember a thing that she had seen. Well, save for one thing. She could feel her heart twist threateningly in her chest; and it had nothing to do with the pain spreading from the floor to her body. She didn't want to think of the one secret revealed about Harry's future. She couldn't think of it, because even though it high impossible, she could be wrong. She prayed that she was wrong.  
  
But no matter how much she wished it were not true, she had to tell someone.  
  
Mustering all her strength together, she flipped over until she lay on her back, letting out a pained cry at the same time. Her hand gripped into a fist, her own will fighting the urge to release her anger and pain through her magic and on the whole destroy everything in sight.  
  
A groan at her side made her look to her side slowly. Harry was beside her, already fighting his way up, his face screwed up in concentration as he forced himself to his feet by his hands. Crystal was impressed, as she didn't even have the strength to lift a finger.  
  
A fighter, she thought, then quickly felt worse about her news.  
  
"I hate you," Harry almost whispered, sitting gingerly next to her and panting hard. "I hate you so much." He coughed, and blood spilled onto the stone.  
  
Just then, the door to the dungeon was thrown open, the light from the corridor flooding in and stinging the eyes of both Harry and Crystal.  
  
"I hate you too," Harry grumbled at the approaching shadows that turned out to be Hermione, Draco, Ron and Leo.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione cried out as she ran toward him and fell to her knees in front of him. She pulled him into a tight hug, which Harry really didn't mind. It felt good to feel contact with a human that dealt with the comfort factor as well. "Harry, we were so worried!"  
  
"Yeah mate," Ron said, walking slowly toward him and clamping a hand on his shoulder. "You missed my near death encounter."  
  
"Wish I was there," Harry forced out, noticing for the first time that his voice was very hoarse. Looking over Hermione's shoulder, Harry could see Draco standing a little ways away, hands in pockets and still looking odd in the white clothing. He wasn't looking toward Harry, however. He was focused on Leo kneeling in front of Crystal, trying to help her to her feet. But Crystal didn't look in the mood to stand up.  
  
She was waving her hands feebly and screwing her face in an effort to say something that wouldn't come out.  
  
"Crysi, what is it?" Leo asked, getting her to at least sit up. "What are you trying to say; what happened?"  
  
In her last attempt to force out the knowledge she knew, Crystal placed her hand around her throat and let a gentle glow of gold emit from her palm. When it had diminished, she pulled her hand away and gasped in the air around her. Her breathing was frighteningly unsteady and, though every ounce of him radiating with anger for her, Harry couldn't help but feel the sting of worry in his chest.  
  
"She's hurt. I think looking into my future hurt her," he rasped, letting Hermione and Ron hoist him to his feet.  
  
Leo shook his head but kept looking at his sister gulping down oxygen. "It couldn't have been that bad; she's done it before."  
  
It was bad, Crystal thought, but couldn't dwell on it at the moment. They had to know what she knew. They had to know what lay at the end of Harry's path.  
  
"Gone--," she strained out, noticing that she barely had any voice left. "Fallen-gone.that is-way." She had to stop, or else her entire body would burst from the within.  
  
"What is she saying?" Draco asked, curiosity shining in his gray eyes.  
  
"I think it's the prediction of Harry's future," Leo guessed, holding his sister by her shoulders. "What is it Crystal? Gone; does that mean he'll defeat the Dark Lord?"  
  
Crystal shook her head earnestly. "Fallen--,"  
  
"The Dark Lord will fall, by Harry's hand?" Ron offered. Crystal slammed her fist into the ground, willing her words to come out clear and loud.  
  
"Gone! Fallen-not him."  
  
"Fallen not him? Do you mean that Harry won't fail?" Hermione tried.  
  
That was it, she could not let these people she had learned to care for be led down the wrong path. Pulling together every last shred of strength and energy, Crystal cried out the prediction she wished she had never made.  
  
"He will die! Harry Potter will die! Before the moon waxes full for the final time in the fifth month, Harry Potter will fall by the hands of Lord Voldemort! This is his final destiny by a road that cannot be broken!"  
  
And with her final word, Crystal lost everything in her to sleep, and fell to the stone floor once more.  
  
A/N: And I am sooooo sorry for the long wait!!! I thought I'd get more chapters done during summer, but I was wrong. Work and dance and work and dance; that has been my life for the past three months. Not that I'm complaining, but it's taken away my writing time. Hope the cliffhanger made up for the wait. Heh heh.  
Don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I promise I will make it into one of the best ones yet. And to all my faithful reviewers, please don't leave me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thanks and I love you all!! God bless. 


	14. A Deathly Destiny, A Fortune to Fear

Chapter Fourteen ~ A Deathly Destiny, A Fortune To Fear  
  
"Ah!" Harry cried, cringing away from Hermione. "You lied; you said it wouldn't hurt."  
  
"And if I had said otherwise, you wouldn't have let me near you in the first place," Hermione scolded, crossing her arms impatiently. "Now are you going to calm down and let me do this or not?"  
  
Harry scowled at her. "Not."  
  
Hermione sighed and sat at the foot of the bed. Since the return of Crystal and Harry, and Crystal's disturbing prediction, Hermione had volunteered to take care of Harry as he recovered from his ordeal. Like many of the events that could happen in Enol, Leo said that he was severely injured and needed treatment right away; and it wasn't as though his injuries were discreet either.  
  
Nasty cuts and burns covered his arms and legs and a threateningly deep slash had appeared at the back of his neck. His ankle was twisted and what looked like claw marks stood out on his pale cheek. And this didn't take account the headache, sore muscles and rousing stomachs pains Harry kept pointing out; which, on its own part, was difficult as his voice was still hoarse and hard to understand.  
  
"It's because he hasn't used it physically in so long," Leo had explained. "He was using his voice in Crystal's mind, but not in the physical plane. It will hurt for a few days, but eventually it will come back to normal."  
  
But Hermione, being the Angel of Mercy that she was, had resolved to spend the entire day tending to Harry's whim, starting with healing him as well as she could manage. She had asked Leo if he could simply perform a healing spell on him, but once again he denied due to the fact that, because he was in his sister's mind and she being the eldest and stronger Oracle, his injuries were beyond his power.  
  
"Crystal could do it, but she's out cold at the moment," he had pointed out as well. He had stowed her away in her own room, saying that a full day's rest would be enough to revive her.  
  
But on his own helpful part, Leo had shown his stash of medical potions and medicines that he made on his spare time just because 'it fascinated and intrigued him' to make them. Giving her full use of his storage closet in the hospital wing, he had left her to do her thing. She had asked Ron and Draco for help, but Ron still needed time to gather his strength as well and Draco wasn't the one to call for nursing the Boy-Who- Lived back to health.  
  
So now Hermione was on her own, trying to clean Harry's wounds with an herbal salve that Leo had pointed out to her. Unfortunately, it caused the open wounds to tingle and burn dramatically, making the process not at all an easy one.  
  
"Come on Harry, you look horrible and I'm trying to be a good friend by helping you. Which, I may point out, isn't very easy as you won't let me within three feet of you!"  
  
Harry snorted. "But that stuff stings," he replied in a raspy growl. Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"Don't be such a baby. And here, drink this while you're at it; it's a bit of the water from the lake downstairs. Leo says it will do your voice some good." She forced a goblet into his hands and demanded that he drink up, resolving to pour it down his mouth herself when he refused. "There, see! It eases the pain, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yeah, but it hurts when it goes down," Harry complained, gulping repeatedly. "I hate her."  
  
At this, Hermione stopped and slouched a bit in her seat. She knew he was only saying this because he was hurt and grumpy, but in truth, she could hate Crystal just as well. The prediction she gave was definitely not faulty, as Leo has pointed out that an Oracle's prediction was one bred from a source where doubt did not exist. But if it was true, then by the end of the school year, Harry would be--.  
  
"Hermione, I didn't mean it like that," Harry started, breaking into her thoughts with a sincere tone. "I'm just saying these things because I haven't been in a good mood. Just-just don't think about the prediction, alright?"  
  
"But Harry, if we don't think about it then what is it we're going to do? She's an Oracle, Harry! Oracles are never wrong; and she's an Oracle of Prodigy to add to it. Harry.what are you going to do?" Hermione stared at him for a bit, the sadness in her eyes heart-wrenching. Harry shrugged.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe I could find a way to change the future--,"  
  
"But you can't!" Hermione protested, jumping to her feet in desperation. "You heard what Crystal and Leo said! Everyone has a path, Harry. A path that you cannot change no matter what you do. If you tried killing yourself right now the universe wouldn't let you. It wouldn't let you because that's not how you're supposed to die!"  
  
"So what would you have me do?!" Harry cried out. "Would you want me to lie at the feet of Voldemort himself and scream 'Kill me now! I can't fight it because it's my destiny'?"  
  
"No, of course not," Hermione replied helplessly, covering her face with her hands.  
  
"Then what, Hermione?" Harry asked, standing up from the bed. He stared at her; and, against her better judgment, Hermione lowered her hands and looked at him too. "You know who I am, Hermione; you're one of my best friends. And because of that you know that I'm not one to stand around and let these things happen. When I was a baby I was just another one in line for Voldemort's murder list, but even then I tricked destiny into taking a wrong turn. I don't know if that was what was planned all along or if I really did cheat myself out of fate; but I know that every time death comes knocking I blow that door of its hinges.  
  
"And I don't care if that prediction was made by an Oracle of Prodigy or by Professor Trelawney. I'm not going down without a fight, you know that. Now the question here is simple; will you stand by my side or step away and let fortune take its toll?"  
  
Hermione sighed heavily, shaking her head slightly and staring at the ground. "You know I'll always stand beside you; when have I ever let you down?"  
  
At that, Harry smiled genuinely at her. And, though it had comforted her in previous cases, his joy did nothing to ease the aching feeling in her heart.  
  
****  
  
"That prediction was ludicrous!" Leo bellowed, pacing his sister's room. "It was absurd and foolish and I think you know that too!"  
  
Crystal sighed and adjusted herself so that she sat comfortably against her pillows. "Leo, if you would just listen to me--,"  
  
"Crystal that is enough." Leo stopped his pacing and stared hard at his sister. "Now I've already done you a favor by telling everyone you're out cold and that you need an entire day's rest. After that, I'm afraid that I can help you anymore. Crysi, you've crossed the line this time."  
  
Crystal's face was now twisted in anxiety. "But I've crossed no line brother!"  
  
"Damn it Crystal, just shut the hell up!" Leo cried out, expending too much energy and releasing some of his magic as well. The stone walls trembled dangerously and the orb set into the wall shattered into thousands of pieces.  
  
Crystal remained silent; for the first time in ages, she was authentically frightened. Never in her years had she seen her brother look so angry, with his face completely drained of color and his bright eyes darkening in hatred. And for the first time since never, Crystal lowered her eyes in insignificance.  
  
"I never doubted you, sister. Never once," Leo continued, trying very hard to calm himself, yet failing terribly. His voice quivered and he had to take frequent deep breaths to hold in his temptation to scream and curse and hex everything in sight. "And if I ever did, I hid it. You were always my older sister and the first Oracle, so if you said something, I always went along. And I will admit, never in all your time have you been wrong about anything. But this time.this time you've done yourself in.  
  
"Crystal, he's not supposed to die! He's not supposed to die! He is not supposed to die. You've known that, I've known that, even the Higher Being has known that since he was born. His future was clouded, that was the only uncertainty granted to us on his fate. We didn't know if Voldemort would prevail or Harry; if the Dark Lord was going to live or die, but one thing was absolutely certain; Harry Potter wasn't meant to die by Voldemort's hand. And now look what you've done! You know the consequences of revealing anyone's fortune! Once said aloud by the words of an Oracle, the road is set and the prediction must come true. Crysi, do you realize what you've done?"  
  
In an act of hopelessness, Leo fell to his knees. And to dent her pride even more at that moment, Crystal noticed with horror as a tear fell from her brother's cheek. Leo never cried. He had never cried. Never in her view or out; he had always withheld his emotions. But now.now he didn't seem to care if the entire world saw him weep in composed sadness.  
  
For a while Crystal could say nothing, the guilt eating away at her heart. But why was there guilt? Why did she feel shameful in anyway? She had done nothing wrong; nothing wrong but do exactly what everyone wanted.  
  
"Leo, my brother, just please listen to me," she began, her voice soft and quiet. "I don't know how that vision came to me or why it was the only thing I saw. I didn't see Harry dying, and I don't know how anything can lead up to that in the end. But what I do know is that everything I said, every last word that escaped my mouth back in the dungeons, is right. He will die by the hand of Voldemort, it will happen on the last full moon of the fifth month and his path cannot be broken. Leo, believe me when I say that's not what I wanted to see--,"  
  
"Save it," Leo interrupted her, looking up from the ground with tear- filled eyes. When he spoke next it was with so much anger and hatred that his tone was deathly calm and impassively horrible. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say for tonight. I hate you too much right now." Crystal felt a cold stab of pain in her chest. "But know this, my sister: Harry Potter will not die by the hand of Voldemort or by any hand commanded under the Dark Arts. I will do anything to ensure his life if it means giving up my own as well. You may have foreseen his downfall, but I intend to live out his reign."  
  
And without so much as a death glare, Leo dissolved from the room and left behind an unholy silence.  
  
****  
  
Ron walked slowly through the tower's halls, his pace leisured and his heart heavy. He had told everyone that he could rest in the 'Gryffindor Common Room', and that he would like to be left alone for the rest of the day. Hermione had offered to care for him as she was doing the same for Harry, but Ron had denied her help saying that he didn't want to get in the way of Harry's health. But he had lied.  
  
It wasn't Harry's health that had driven him away from the infirmary but Harry himself. Ron sighed mournfully as he rounded the corner, leaning against the stone wall and closing his eyes. The reason Ron couldn't go to the infirmary was because he couldn't look his best friend in the face.  
  
He couldn't look Harry in the face without wanting to break out of Enol and curse everything in sight. He couldn't look at Harry without letting his anger burst forth and scream at Crystal till shame pierced through her cold heart. And more importantly, he couldn't look at Harry without feeling the brittle impulse inside him to break down and, for the first time in a long time, cry. He hated to admit it, but it does not help to deny the truth.  
  
Since they'd first become friends, Ron had not met anyone who was treated so unfairly. His entire life, Harry had lived in fear of something or another; when he was a baby, it was the greatest Dark Lord of the century. As he grew up, it was his own uncle and aunt; and when he returned to the magical world, it was back to the Dark Lord. And now he lived in fear of his own future, because he was supposed to be dead before the year was up.  
  
It wasn't fair because Harry had done nothing to deserve any of this; and more over, Ron could do nothing to help him.  
  
He slid down the wall, sitting on the cold floor and listened as a heavy rain began to beat against the windows from outside. He opened his eyes then, looking out the window at the distorted sky created by the falling rain. It was the perfect setting for the most miserable day Ron had known.  
  
For a long time he sat there in complete silence, not thinking of anything but watching the water outside. The cold air searing through the stone corridors chilled him to the bone, but he did not shiver nor find some way to warm himself; it was mild suffering compared to what Harry had been through all these years.  
  
"What are you doing here, Weasley?" a low drawl asked him, the voice all too familiar to Ron.  
  
"Nothing that concerns you, Malfoy," he replied, not looking up as Draco came to stand beside him. He could feel him looking down at himself, those smirking gray eyes almost daring him to strike out.  
  
"You're supposed to be in your room."  
  
"So I lied; big deal. You do it all the time."  
  
"Wallowing in the misery that is Potter once more I see?" Draco proceeded, speaking tiredly and with great effort, as though he hadn't rested in years.  
  
Ron's jaw tightened, the need to suppress his anger becoming more difficult by the second. "I haven't got the time to deal with the likes of you, Malfoy. Some of us here have actual problems to deal with."  
  
He had expected him to give his sneering laugh and retort, but Draco did no such thing. Instead there was an uneasy silence as Ron could feel those steel eyes boring into him. "I see no problems for you, Weasley. In fact, I see no problems for anyone save for Potter." And the way he said this, with so much sincerity and seriousness, made Ron look up at him in befuddlement.  
  
"What are you on about?" he asked quietly as Draco averted his gaze and stared at the window. He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged lazily.  
  
"You wouldn't understand if I told you," he replied, and was about to head on down the corridor when Ron jumped to his feet and stood in his way, staring hard at him. He was maybe a fraction of an inch taller, but otherwise they were equal in height.  
  
"What are you on about?" he repeated, much slowly this time. They stared for a long time, each one challenging the other to give in to their tempers and throw the first blow. Neither did, however, and it was Draco who broke the silence.  
  
"The prediction Crystal made down in the dungeons was magnificent. It embodies everything that's beautiful about Potter within it." Taking an odd pleasure in the horrified look on Ron's face, he side-stepped him and started to walk away.  
  
"You're sick," Ron answered, his voice barely above a whisper. Draco heard it though, and stopped dead once more. They were barely two feet away from each other, their backs facing the other and both their heads slightly bent towards the ground. The darkened light from outside along with the vigorous rain painted shadows across their face as a short silence settled over them once more.  
  
"Did you ever notice the rain?" Draco suddenly asked, cold, calm and quiet as he always did. He hadn't moved, but his question was directed towards Ron, even if there were others around. For an instant, Ron didn't know what to say in reaction; but thinking that Malfoy was going somewhere with this, he answered in the way Draco would have wanted him to.  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, if you did, you would see that it reminds me of someone." Draco turned his head towards the window slightly, enough to see the droplets splash against the glass. He spoke slowly, letting every word sink in and stretching everything to last an eternity. Ron hated it, though didn't mind it at the time.  
  
"And who might that be, Malfoy?"  
  
"The person everyone is making a huge fuss over."  
  
"How does something like the rain remind you of Harry?" Ron questioned, still having not moved from his position. For a time he thought Draco wouldn't answer him, but then the usual inflection of his voice responded.  
  
"Everything about the rain reminds me of Harry. Haven't you ever seen it for yourself, Weasley? But no.you wouldn't, would you? I have watched both for a very long time now, and since Crystal's prediction, I've realized what they have in common."  
  
"And what would that be?"  
  
Draco lifted his head then, staring at the plain, dark ceiling. "They are both beautiful in the same way."  
  
Ron turned around then, confused and afraid at the same time. He stared at the back of Draco's head, wondering if there would be a day when he could forgive this boy for what he was about to say.  
  
"And what is the beauty of the rain?"  
  
Draco glanced back momentarily. "The beauty of the rain," he said, before disappearing down the hall, "is how it falls."  
  
****  
  
If he could see them now, he would tell them to breathe. Just breathe and take everything one at a time. He would not lie to them and say that everything would be okay. He would not offer them a false hope with no indication of the fairy tale ending; he trusted them more than that. They were stronger.all of them.  
  
If he could see them now, he'd remind them that they had the strongest weapon of all. They were holders of it since the day they met, and would be owners of it until the day they died, which wouldn't be for a long, long time. The weapon they held was the one thing Lord Voldemort would never have, no matter how powerful he became and no matter how man followers he gained. It was the bond of their friendship; a friendship that could out last the end of the world.  
  
If he could see them now, he would give them every last wise word of advice he could think of. He'd give them all every last bit of knowledge he ever gathered, every thing he ever knew and every thing he ever experienced. He would give it all to them the moment he saw them, because the time when they wouldn't matter any more was coming fast upon him.  
  
If he could see them now, he'd tell them he loved them; every last one of them. He'd tell them he loved all of them, and that was the upper hand Voldemort had achieved over him. Voldemort didn't care if he lost a follower; if they were gone, he could get more. They were nothing to him but mere pawns that could protect their king. But Dumbledore loved every last one of them, and if he lost one he lost everything. Not one of them was a pawn, but all were kings. He was the pawn, and it killed him inside when Voldemort struck one of his kings down. He would tell them he loved them, and then wish he didn't love them at all for their sake.  
  
He would give everything for them, if only he could see them now.  
  
****  
  
Voldemort stood outside, alone. No Death Eaters flanked him, no servants watched him and no one knew of his whereabouts. He suspected that his absence had been discovered, but knew no one would question it for a while. If the Dark Lord wanted privacy then so be it; they would either give it to him or risk punishment for invading upon his own free will.  
  
But he was not far; barely a mile away from Malfoy Manor. He stood alone in the sea of nature, an odd figure amongst the surrounding green expanse of meadows and hills encasing the manor. The moonlight was high in the clouds and the wind blew strong yet not fierce. It lifted his billowing cloak about him like an ocean of shadows, rippling by the millions as it spilled about his pale form.  
  
He did not think, he did not speak and he did not move. He only stood their, looking over the great rise of earth that the manor sat upon. For a while his slitted eyes had been glued onto the stars; the great, regal stars that blinked mockingly at him from above in the heavens. They sat there, gazing down at the world, knowing that they held magic beyond the reach of humankind.  
  
Then his eyes flicked down to the village at the base of the hill, they're miniature lampposts were mere pinpricks in the distance. People walked the streets, drove on the roads and lived in the houses, not even faintly aware of the magic conspiring in the spooky mansion up on the haunted hill.  
  
Voldemort closed his eyes, taking in a deep, refreshing breath. The scent of the midnight air filled his lungs, and he could just feel the energy of life all around him. He opened his horrendous eyes and watched as the tall grass swayed in the wind. He listened, as the quiet sounds of night echoed in his ears. His jaw clenched, his muscles tightened and his shoulders tensed for reasons unknown to the naked eye. Then slowly, very slowly, he lifted his hand and flexed the long, pastel fingers, staring at them with an insane intensity.  
  
Power. No one understood that his only hunger, a hunger that he had been carrying with him for almost his entire life now, was a hunger for power. He did not believe in evil, it did not exist. He did not believe in good, for it did not exist either. There was no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it. The very words he had spoken to Harry Potter when they had first met as boy and spirit. He did not care for people, they were disloyal and dishonest; and he did not care for creatures, they were deprived of intelligence and the sense for anything. He cared for the great and immense ability to control anything and everything, to rule as an immortal and as a god in the world's eye. He cared for power.  
  
Then, with a grand swish of his cloak, he headed back for the Manor, ready to devise the next step in ensuring his power and locking his future.  
  
****  
  
"Where is Draco, Professor?!" someone bellowed from the Entrance Hall. Ginny hurried down the marble staircase but froze at the top of the last one. She backed up a little and hid herself behind the great gargoyle that rested upon the stair post.  
  
It was early morning and the sun had revealed a Hogwarts bedecked in snow. Ginny had not slept at all last night due to the fact that her mind had been filled with thoughts of what her father had said and how Professor McGonagall had taken the news. She was up and about before any of the students in the castle had planned on eating an early breakfast when the enraged sounds of an intruder bounded up to her as she came down the stairs, interested to see who it was, she had continued her way down and now found herself hiding from one of the last people she would have expected to come into the castle.  
  
Lucius Malfoy stood framed in the doorway of the huge oak doors, black, snake-adorned staff in hand. He was shouting at Professor McGonagall who, by Ginny's great admiration, looked very calm and collected indeed. It seemed Mr. Malfoy had stormed into the school and was stopped by the Professor before he could take another step. If she leaned over a bit, Ginny could see the black carriage still waiting outside and one of Mr. Malfoy's many servants waiting by the carriage door.  
  
"Please, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall replied, her voice level yet stern. "I assure you that your son is perfectly fine in any case-,"  
  
"I don't give a damn if he is fine, Professor," Lucius spat, his grip tightening on his staff. "I care that he is not here where he belongs."  
  
McGonagall's arms stayed rooted to her sides yet Ginny could tell that her left hand was itching to pull out her wand. She could see her hand fidget slightly and knew that, if she were not decent enough, the professor would plunge her hand into her robes, whip out her wand and curse Malfoy right out of the school.  
  
"I don't recall saying that Draco Malfoy was not present in the school, Mr. Malfoy. Why on earth would you suspect such a thing?"  
  
The color was rising in Lucius' cheeks and the rage coming off him hit Ginny all the way up the stairs. "If he were here, Professor, you would have conjured him before me without your endless questions and useless jabber. Now tell me, old woman, where is my son?" He tried to speak calmly but the smallest hint of fear in his tone suggested that he was stressed and infuriated at McGonagall's lack of cooperation.  
  
"Now really Mr. Malfoy, I see no need for name-calling at this time," she half scolded. Ginny couldn't help suppress a giggle. McGonagall had never been afraid to stand up to anyone and that was probably the reason so many students gave her their undivided and unquestionable respect.  
  
"Where is my son?" Malfoy repeated, his voice deathly silent in the empty hall. Ginny quickly quieted herself and gazed intently on the serene figure that was McGonagall.  
  
"He is not here," she answered, basically putting his suspicions to rest. "He is out on a special lesson with the Headmaster."  
  
Lucius' looked positively furious. "And what kind of school are you running, Deputy Headmistress, that removes a student from its premises without informing the student's parents first? This is a case and tactic that could be brought before the Ministry of Magic itself, had I the inclination that you were hiding something from me about my own flesh and blood."  
  
The way Mr. Malfoy had said those words made the skin on Ginny's arm crawl. Could he really have the power to put Hogwarts and Professor Dumbledore into question and jeopardize the Headmaster's plans? Right away she knew the answer without even hesitating. He did have the power; all the pureblood lines had a say on what went on the entirety of the magical realm. Correction, all the rich pureblood lines. It wasn't as though her father was given any amount of respect he deserved by those high and overpaid officials who did no work at the Ministry.  
  
"I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy, but it was all kind of-er-sudden," McGonagall explained. The look on the woman's face said that that was the only information she was going to give and that you'd have to be Dumbledore in order to get any more out. Knowing that Mr. Malfoy would just continue his screaming, Ginny inched away from her hiding place and ran back up the stairs. She stopped on the second floor landing and leaned against the wall, thinking.  
  
So Draco Malfoy was gone too? That explained Pansy's sudden act of humanity yesterday. But where could he have gone to without at least telling someone or bringing someone with him? Then Ginny suddenly remembered that McGonagall had been acting similarly not too long ago. She had asked about her brother and referred to him as if he wasn't even within the school. But the thought was silly-even though it could be true.  
  
"Only one way to find out," Ginny said to herself rather off- handedly. Checking her watch and realizing she had more than enough time before anyone even began waking up, she headed back for Gryffindor Tower and through the portrait hole. Without so much as a backward glance, she took the stairs two at a time and stopped in front of the fifth year boys' dormitory. Without hesitation, she pushed the door open and let it slam closed behind her.  
  
There, right in front of her, was her brother's bed; and it looked completely normal, just as she would have thought to find it. There was the quilt their mother had made each Weasley child and her brother's old wand was peeking out from under his pillow where he unconsciously kept it. The drapes were pulled to the sides and not a fabric was out of place. Nothing was missing save for one important detail: her brother.  
  
Ginny walked to the bed and sat down at its edge, a confused sigh escaping her lips. She ran her palm along her brother's pillow, wondering where on earth he was. He never woke up this early; never. Not even for Harry would he pull himself from the grasp of sleep. Falling so deep into her worries for her brother, Ginny looked towards Harry's bed, hoping to carefully wake him and ask if he had seen Ron at all.  
  
Her suspicions were confirmed. Harry's bed looked untouched as well, not a dent in the pillow and not a wrinkle to suggest otherwise. So he was gone as well. Ginny didn't need to check the girl's dorm; she knew Hermione would be absent among her sheets also.  
  
All gone. All four of them gone: Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco Malfoy. But they're sudden disappearance couldn't be linked together; that would just be a disastrous combination. So why the coincidence of they're nonexistence? These were questions and riddles Ginny did not want to deal with, but the worry she was born with caught them and locked them in her mind.  
  
"Where are you?" Ginny whispered out loud, staring down at her brother's pillow. Then a strange groaning sound came from somewhere to the side of her.  
  
"Right here," Seamus grumbled, sitting up from his bed and squinting around himself. When his eyes fell on Ginny he stared at her for a few minutes, not really processing who she was for a while. "Ginny Weasley, what are you doing here?" he asked in his rendition of a horrible morning's Irish accent. Ginny didn't really pay him much attention.  
  
"Nothing Seamus, go back to bed." And without waiting for an answer, Ginny unceremoniously pulled out her wand and muttered a spell towards Seamus. A small dagger of light shot out from her wand and hit him square between the eyes. He fell back onto his pillows and began snoring once more. With one more wave of her wand his curtains closed and she was alone again, worrying over her brother and friends and not truly realizing that she had just thrown Seamus into a three day coma.  
  
****  
  
"How is he?" Leo asked, his voice much too quiet, especially in the deserted corridor outside of the infirmary.  
  
"He's asleep," was all Hermione said. She closed the door silently behind her, walking down the corridor towards the stairs. Leo fell into step beside her.  
  
"Is he alright?" the boy continued. "Does he need anything, anything at all? He doesn't require the healing water, but I would be more than glad to bring him some. It wouldn't do much since he has no mortal wounds, but it could heal a bit of his--,"  
  
Hermione stopped walking and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "He's fine, Leo. He just needs rest." But her tone was not encouraging, but immensely blank and void of emotion. It was foreign to her.  
  
"It troubles you," Leo stated, staring up at her. "What Crystal said troubles you."  
  
She let her hand fall. "I just can't deal with the fact that we'll lose him. He's already sitting in his bed, denying that it'll come true, but if an Oracle of Prodigy--,"  
  
"Then he is right," Leo replied firmly. He was gaining that strange sense of authority that he sometimes cloaked himself with. "The prediction won't come true."  
  
"If you think that saying what I want to hear will help me, you're mistaken," Hermione told him. "It doesn't help when I know the truth."  
  
Leo stared at her then continued walking down the corridor. After a moment, Hermione was back in step with him. "You don't understand the truth." His voice was angry, angry and filled with rage, but it was quiet.  
  
"Leo."  
  
"It does not matter what Crystal Tiara said; she was wrong to have made such an unworthy prediction about a being such as--,"  
  
"Leo, you can't say that about her." Hermione was struck by the mere fierceness that accompanied Crystal's name alone. In the past days, Leo had never shown any indication that he could ever be angry with his sister; not like this, anyway. "She's your sister."  
  
Leo rounded on her, staring up with scorching intensity. The fury that was obviously still bubbling in him shone through his eyes, the normal green switching suddenly from flaming blue and then back again. "Crystal Tiara has found it unworthy to call herself my sister," he said, the urges to scream clear through his strained words. "The prediction she made was inaccurate and completely irrational. I will personally make sure that it does not come true if I have to place my own life on it." Then he stomped away, dematerializing as he did so and heading towards his destination, wherever that was, as the flurry of light.  
  
Hermione stood dumbfounded, at a loss of words and basically stunned. She hadn't realized what an affect this prediction would be on Leo. She hadn't thought of it as deeply as he did, although she did worry. But he seemed to have taken it as a personal insult to himself. She didn't know why, but it was undoubtedly a tension between Oracles and siblings alike.  
  
****  
  
Crystal slipped into the dungeon, closing the door behind her silently. She didn't want anyone to know she was down here, and if Leo tried hard enough, he would be able to sense her and her movements.  
  
"Like he'd want to," Crystal mumbled to herself, striding across the familiar expanse. Her brother had made it clear that he wanted no contact with her until he calmed down, and who knew when that was. She had never seen Leo mad like this before, with a grudge so great and perfectly directed at one person. He rarely became angry, which made it knowledge to her that he could stay angry for a long, long period of time. But no matter; it wouldn't matter to her in a few minutes.  
  
She hurried over to the manacles hanging off the wall, the faint green glow from them shining through the darkness. In a few minutes she wouldn't have to think, she could just be her. Well, be the her that didn't know how to feel.  
  
It was like this when she couldn't stand the responsibilities dumped on her from birth. She'd leave her brother to care for himself, excusing the nagging guilt deep in her heart. She'd escape down here, to her beloved dungeon and descend into the Crystal that knew her place and adored and hated it at the same time; the Crystal that didn't understand the use of the heart; the Crystal that was an Oracle the way she wasn't meant to be, power-hungry and insane. She would stay that way all night, chained to this wall and letting her agony of her life dissolve into the sweet bitterness of madness.  
  
She reached the chains and quickly shackled herself to the wall, the iron biting into her already chafed wrists. Outside the sun was already setting, which was a good thing for her. Lunacy did not like the light.  
  
Touching their base, Crystal elongated the chains so she'd be able to lie on the floor. They grew silently and slowly, barely disturbing the silence surrounding her. When she had done all that she needed to, she sat on the ground and lowered herself so that her cheek rested against the cold stone. She lay on her side, bringing her knees up to hug her chest and closing her dark eyes away from everything.  
  
In a few moments the power would take over and in a few moments she wouldn't have to think or feel or care. In a few moments.just a few.  
  
****  
  
He was back in the darkness, back to the seemingly endless vastness that was Crystal's mind. He was reliving everything that had happened: the rush of orbs, the scenes of his would-be life, the look on Crystal's face when she showed him her only other option, the way she called him forward, her voice as she counted and the sudden pain of his entire body opening up and a hand reaching inside of him and pulling something out, something hallowed and something he didn't understand.  
  
The pain was so intense and so real that Harry let out a cry and sat up in bed, sweat drenching his entire body even though he was shivering to the bone. He was trying to regain his breathing, his right hand groping around in the fading light for his glasses.  
  
"Quite a start you had there," someone said from the foot of his bed. Panicked, Harry found his glasses and hurriedly placed them on his face, waiting for the room to adjust into focus. Leo stood far off the ground, hovering a few feet above the base of the bed. He was standing with his feet together, his hands clasped behind his back and his head cocked to one side. He stared down at Harry as he had never done before: with detached inspection. It was a look he had gained numerous times by another source, though that source did not come to him right away.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I was having a bad dream," Harry replied, looking up into the boyish face. Then the answer came to him. Draco: it was Draco who always reserved that impassive gaze for him, one that analyzed his situation before curling into a sneer and then striking where Harry was weakest.  
  
"I had a brother, Harry Potter," Leo suddenly said, looking away from him and out the high window above Harry's bed. Harry was suddenly struck dumb, having taken a while to process what Leo had said.  
  
"A-a brother? You had a brother? But, I thought there were only two Oracles," he said, too tired to sound properly baffled. "How does that--,"  
  
"Oh, he wasn't an Oracle," Leo interrupted, still speaking in a voice that matched his expression. "Oddly enough, he was not chosen. He was born a mortal, with no sense of power or magic within an inch of him. His name was Jakob, Jakob Tiara." Harry wasn't sure where Leo was going with this, but he remained silent, making the wise choice that interrupting Leo would have dire consequences. "He was destined for a strange path, one with the every day sorrows and joys with death waiting for him at the end. But the Higher Being understood that Crystal would want pity on him, even though she was only an infant. So he let Jakob age until Crystal and I were old enough to make the decision ourselves, did we want to be selfish and grant Jakob immortality so we could be 'together' for eternity, or do we let him die of old age and then live with the knowledge that he would just be another soul in our grand location of Purgatory, waiting for his judgment amid the rotting land of silence and turmoil.  
  
"Well, we were baffled, and torn between two choices of his happiness and ours. So we went in between. We made it so we would be together for as long as possible without stripping our brother of the subtle peace that came with death. We split our immortality with him. That's why we only have half of it, we gave our other half to our brother, Jakob. On one condition, we could see him once and then all memory of us would be erased from his mind save for this: he would know that, somewhere, he had siblings who loved him very much and whom he loved in return but that he would never be able to see us, no matter how much he wanted to or how far he traveled."  
  
Leo turned his gaze away from the window now and looked down to his side. He stared at the stone floor beneath him, the intensity of a dead soul shining radiantly from his face. It was almost as if the information he was sharing was so important, so sacred that it would be a sin to attach any form of emotion to it.  
  
"So we watched him as he continued with his life, moving from place to place so people wouldn't suspect him of his slow aging; watching as he grew old and went through one love after another, always leaving the last one behind before he revealed his secret of immortality. But he was never unhappy, no. He loved his gift, glad that he was blessed with years and years to spend and explore the world. He didn't let the gift steal his freedom.  
  
"But when he had reach the age where old was old and no one could tell if you aged or not, he married. Miraculously, he had children as well. Beautiful children who looked exactly like him. I would have been there uncle."  
  
Harry stared as Leo stopped for a moment, swallowed, and then continued with his story.  
  
"For seven years they lived in their little home, my brother taking good care of his wife so that she'd stay alive as long as possible. He was succeeding too, although he didn't have to try so hard. I made sure she'd be alive a little well beyond her years. And they were happy; very, very happy." He paused. "But then little over a month ago, their happiness was shattered. They were murdered; murdered in their own home as they all slept peacefully in their beds. It was night, and Jakob had just barely begun to sleep when he heard a scream and then a saw a bright flash of green from under the door. Him and his wife jumped out of bed and hurried into the hall, but they were too late. Blake, their youngest son, was already dead, lying motionless at the door.  
  
"Jakob was speechless, but his wife wasn't. Horrified, she let out a cry, targeting herself as the next victim. She was murdered in Jakob's arms as she wept on his shoulder. Enraged and frightened, Jakob begged their killer, a hooded creature of immense power, to spare their lives. The creature pondered this long enough to so that Morgan, his daughter, and Conner, his eldest could get to him. They were the last of his family left. The creature then asked Jakob something, something my brother couldn't understand. He demanded to know where the portal was and how to defeat the Oracles of Prodigy. When my brother said he didn't know what he was talking about, the creature tortured Conner, yanking him away from my brother and letting him writhe in pain before his eyes. Morgan was so scared, and she cried. The creature ended her life swiftly when she ran to her brother's side.  
  
"The being, that horrid monster, once again demanded Jakob to reveal the secrets of the Oracles. Of course, still nothing came to Jakob, but he was desperate to save his son; his only son. So he said what he thought was what the creature wanted to hear. He spoke of two people he could swear he remembered, though he didn't know who and why, and that they lived in a place that he could never reach too. But something happened. In desperate love, the magical charm on his memory was temporarily broken, and suddenly everything about us came flooding back. He was able to reveal only some of it though, a portal on sacred grounds, the scene of an old, beaten tower. Two siblings, a little boy and girl; children by sight but elders by knowledge. And powers, powers not even the creature could dream of.  
  
"And that was it. His desperation was only great enough to break the barrier temporarily, but it was enough for the being. Saying that he had received what he came for, he lifted the hand holding the small staff that my brother guessed was a wand. He begged for mercy on Conner, and in a quiet whisper, the creature said he would have mercy. He was a sympathetic ruler. He killed Conner quickly and with no more pain. His version of mercy. Then he tortured Jakob within an inch of his life.and left him. When the muggle police found him, they said he had died from severe shock and intense physical injuries. In my opinion, he died of a broken heart."  
  
Harry was silent. What words could you say to such a gruesome tale? He just sat there, staring up at Leo's face and wondering how he could be so calm about everything he was telling Harry; things Harry did not want to hear.  
  
"My brother was slaughtered," Leo whispered, looking back at Harry. "He was slaughtered because of the Oracles and by Voldemort's own hand. In was unfair, and I hadn't even realized his death until Dumbledore spoke to me of it. I-I could have saved them.or at least their souls, from Purgatory." Then Leo fell silent.  
  
"I don't understand what you're saying to me. How does this--," Harry started, but was cut off.  
  
"I won't let the same thing happen to you," the boy said firmly. "You will not die because of the Oracles or by Voldemort's hand. Prediction or none, your life is your life." He lowered himself to the ground next to Harry's bed. "Come with me, Harry. I want to show you something."  
  
****  
  
Draco threw up his hands as another flash of light blinded his vision. This time, however, the flash came with a huge wave of power, and he was blown backward a couple of inches. When the light had subsided, Draco lowered his arms, breathing hard and leaning one hand against the wall.  
  
After their encounter in the hall, Draco had left Ron speechless as he headed as far away from any of the Trio as possible. He didn't know why he had said those things to Weasley, but everything he spoke of was true. The prediction hadn't filled him with sadness or pity, but a fleeting, almost poisonous joy.  
  
Well, his musings had led him down to the lower floors, practically retracing the steps back to the dungeon. He hadn't planned on ending up there, but it was an unconscious decision on his own part. But as he was walking the corridor to the dungeon's door a bright light had illuminated the dank hallway. It caught him off guard, and when it had settled, he had to take a few seconds to regain his vision.  
  
The flashes of light had been coming frequently now, filling the corridors in blazing, white light. Draco had resorted to extreme caution, pausing every now and then to make sure he would be prepared for the blasts. He wanted to find the source of the light for a reason he wasn't sure he knew.  
  
Finally, he had reached the dungeon door. He waited for a moment, and then pulled the door open. The first thing his eyes fell on was the small heap of white clothing against the far wall. Without even thinking, he already knew who lay there among the flyaway fabric.  
  
"I thought you were supposed to be resting," Draco said, his voice rumbling against the hollow stone. He walked into the dungeon until he was in the middle of the room, his eyes never leaving Crystal's still form.  
  
"You trespass without hesitation. Get out now," she answered, her voice sounding strange to his ears. It was almost as if there was an echoing demonic hiss behind her voice, making it sound sinister and unreal.  
  
"You've done your insane thing again, haven't you?" Draco asked, glaring down at her from his distance. She was lying on her side against the floor, her arms and hair shielding her face. "You know maybe it's just me, but this can't be healthy for you."  
  
Crystal did not seem amused.  
  
"Get. Out."  
  
But of course, Draco wasn't one to do what he was told, even if it was for his own good.  
  
"I know you're an Oracle of whatever and that you're really powerful, but won't your brother be looking for you?" he asked, stepping closer towards her. That seemed to break through her thick, mentally challenged skull. She raised her head, very slowly, and looked up at him. Her hair was a veil against her face, and the darkness of her eyes blended with the shadows of the night.  
  
"Do you not listen to anyone, boy?" she asked quietly, moving into a sitting position. Her back was straight and her shoulders pressed down, yet her bolted wrists lay open at her sides. It was like watching a demon present itself as no threat.  
  
But what she said to him was what caught Draco's attention. The way she used the word 'boy'; she sounded so much like the Dark Lord that Draco instinctively clutched the Dark Mark on his arm, the faint outline of the skull visible through the white fabric. This small movement seemed to interest Crystal for she let out a low, menacing laugh as she leaned herself against the wall.  
  
"Yes, I remind you of him, don't I? The unthinkable power, the corrupt insanity, our abilities to change modes whenever we wish and the hellish mercy we use to rule. We are bred for the same purpose by the same being, though we can be so incredibly different. I'm sure our maker didn't intend us to be similar, but we ended up as we were done. In my opinion, the resemblance is uncanny."  
  
She sat up straighter against the wall, bringing her knees up about her and hugging them to her chest with her dead arms; the clink of the chains resounding a thousand times in the dungeon. Her eyes remained glued to Draco, though he wished she would at least flick her gaze some where else. A black stare isn't something one would want imprinted in their minds.  
  
"Odd. You seem pleased to have so many similarities; not that I could disagree with you. You both like the same things: unthinkable authority, immense supremacy, killing." Draco raised his chin defiantly, growing bolder by her dignified silence. "Everyone blames you for Potter's downfall, you know that right? They think you've done it out of spite and madness. They accuse you of fraud, jealously, and illusion. You know that, right?"  
  
She did nothing in reply, implying a solid and definite 'yes'.  
  
Draco lowered himself to the ground, the cold stone biting into his skin. He bent his legs in front of himself and rested his elbows on his knees, staring at her. "But they didn't hear it in your voice."  
  
"Hear what?" Crystal questioned, tilting her head to one side sharply, her eyes growing wide with false wonder.  
  
"Hear the terror, the pleading," Draco answered, shrugging as if the news was petty. "They didn't see the look of misery in your eyes as you forced out those words. They don't know that you hate that prediction just as much as they do."  
  
There was a pause after he said this in where both parties just stared at one another. It suddenly struck Draco as risky that he was sitting alone in the dungeon with Crystal, speaking to her in an indecent manner concerning her station. This, of course, was beside the fact that he was talking to her at all. They both gave the notion that they hated one another; though Draco had a strong sense that, in the state she was in, hate, love, like and loathe all fell into the same category.  
  
Then, quite to his amazement, a smile spread across her lips, lightening her features incredibly. It wasn't an evil smile or a malicious one; and neither was it forced or forged. It was real, reaching all the way to her terrifying eyes and scattering across her entire body.  
  
"And you heard it," she stated, gripping her chains with her hands as she laughed; really and truly laughed. "None of them, not even my own flesh and blood, could tell, yet you, of all people, could. And I wonder, how does someone like you know so much about human emotions when frankly, you don't appear to receive any at all."  
  
Draco held her gaze. "You're the Oracle; why don't you tell me?"  
  
"As a challenge?"  
  
"As a request."  
  
"Ah, but I do not bow to requests."  
  
"Then a challenge."  
  
"Have you spoken to them?"  
  
"I said challenge."  
  
Crystal pushed her hair away from her face. "They deny you as they do me, don't they?"  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"Challenges show weakness."  
  
"I don't speak with them."  
  
"And I murder those who request challenges."  
  
"Then a demand," Draco shot back. Crystal ran her hand through her hair again.  
  
"Demands, I can accept," she replied. "You could sense the peril in my voice because you have experienced it as well. You have encountered the same desperation as I and yet you cannot remember it. Do the memories strike you as the day goes by? Bright lights and searing pain; a circle of Death Eaters and then nothing. That was the moment your life changed, you changed, and yet dear little Draco Malfoy can't even recall such an event." She was breathing harder now, the craze slowly creeping back into her motions. Her hand was digging into her hair and the other held the chain to her ankle with a death grip.  
  
"I'd like to recall it but magic has strange affects on people," Draco muttered. Suddenly, Crystal's hand yanked forcibly on the chain and it tore from the wall the smallest bit, small chunks of stone falling to the floor. Draco flinched slightly, but held his ground.  
  
"You'd 'like to recall', is that your excuse boy? You act as if you have no choice in the matter." She had her hands wrapped around both chains attached to her wrists, her fingers twisting them around and around and around.  
  
"I don't," Draco told her, his legs straightening and his arms falling to his sides. He was eyeing her restraints, their purpose slowly fading away as she tugged on them. Her knuckles were turning white from her grip and the walls whined eerily as the chains were being forced from them. "You of all people know that I hate not knowing things."  
  
"Yet you deny the one thing that would give you your answer."  
  
"I don't have to argue this with you," Draco said, rising to his feet and flinching as the chains were lurched forward again. She was kneeling now, her upper body leaning forward as she arms shook from pressure of the manacles. "Good luck with your abnormality." He turned to leave  
  
"You're a coward, Draco Malfoy. A coward," Crystal cried out, amusement in her voice. She was laughing now; her eyes squeezed shut as she doubled over in hysteria. Draco whirled around, staring at her with either intense fear or unremarkable anger.  
  
"What did you say?" he asked.  
  
Crystal stopped laughing, but looked at him with a grin still in place. "Is that a challenge?" she started again, but Draco wasn't in any mood to play.  
  
"What the hell did you say?" he growled, narrowing his eyes yet stepping back as well. Crystal became ecstatic.  
  
"Yes!" she exclaimed, letting a wave of power pulse from her body, breaking the chains that held her feet. As they ripped from the stone they disappeared into a flash of green light and smoke. She had flown to a standing position now, rushing forward as far as she could. Her restraints stopped her only three feet away from Draco, her dark eyes leaning forward hideously. "Yes! Hell, hell! You speak one true word after all, boy. Hell is what I say and hell will be what I am! They all think that, so it must be true. I am hell.I live it."  
  
"That's it," Draco mumbled, a quiver audible in his harsh tone. "I'm done here." He turned his back to her once more and headed for the door that seemed much too far at the moment.  
  
"Done, done. You will never be done with me Draco," Crystal answered in a sing song voice. "I own you. I own you, I own them, I own everyone."  
  
Another echoing crack. Draco kept walking, fighting the urge to run. He would not give her the satisfaction of his fear.  
  
"I own the world. I own--do you flee from me child? Flee from the one with all the answers to your questions? Ah, so that is the target. I saw the way your shoulders tense as I speak. You know that I know. You want to know; after all, you hate not knowing things."  
  
Crack, crack, crack. If she pulled once more she'd be free. He was almost to the door, and if he broke into a run now.  
  
But pride was something he'd never give up, something he'd always make sure everyone saw. He knew it was the reason for his arrogance, the reason he always lost to Potter; but it was his, and no one, not even this damn girl, would force him to leave it.  
  
"Stop Draco," Crystal whispered, though her words reached his ears. The door was only five steps away from him; but he stopped. Why, he did not know. But she had told him to, and he obeyed. "Listen," she said again, and then silence. He stared at the door, the muscles in his shoulders sore from his fear. He didn't dare turn around.  
  
Then he felt as her arms snaked over his shoulder and down his chest, hanging there with their pale skin glowing in the dim light from the hall. He could feel her breath as she leaned her head against his ear and heard as the chains fell from her wrists and clattered to the floor. He did not look to see if they disappeared as well. He did not move at all.  
  
"You listened," she said, running her hands across his neck and in his hair. Draco swallowed hard.  
  
"We all have our faults."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"And mine is being incredibly stupid."  
  
"I thought you didn't want to hear anything I said."  
  
"Get off me."  
  
"You'd like to know about that night," Crystal said, her fingers cold against his skin. Draco turned his head a fraction of an inch towards her.  
  
"Would you show me?" he asked. Her breath tickled his ear and rustled his hair.  
  
She shrugged. "Would you like me to?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Suddenly her hands gripped his shoulders and spun him around so he faced her. She was no taller than him, but it seemed that she was towering above him now, glaring down at him through empty sockets. "Then here it is," she hissed, the smile gone from her lips. Her hand flew abruptly over his eyes, and then Draco was flung into a horrific sleep.  
  
****  
  
A/N: And there you go! This one was shorter than the last chapters, I know. But hey, I got it up faster! Hope you guys like it and please read and review.  
  
Coming Up: Where is Leo taking Harry? How are Ron and Hermione doing? What strange dreams will haunt Draco now that he's under an Oracle's sleep? Will Crystal ever stop rendering everyone unconscious? Is Dumbledore ever going to wake up? What about Voldemort, what's he got planned? And the question that will plague you until the end of this story: will the prediction actually come true? Well, that's for me to know and for you to find out! 


	15. Prediction

Chapter Fifteen ~ Prediction  
  
Hermione crept down the dungeon stairs, the din of her skirts silent as a ghost. She inched along the wall, looking forward and back, making sure everything was empty. She did not want to be found by a crazed Oracle.  
  
When she had gone to check on Crystal and found her bed empty only to notice that Draco had claimed sudden disappearance as well, Hermione put two and two together, as only Hermione could do. She had headed straight for the dungeon, having the gut feeling that the sinister magic for the day had yet to be finished.  
  
Holding her skirts so they wouldn't swish and hiss as she walked, Hermione ran the last few corridors to the dungeon. When she hit the head of the final hall, she slowed down. A faint, blue light was pulsating out of the far door. Once again Hermione was proven right.  
  
Disregarding her need of stealth, she bolted down the corridor, skidding to a halt in front of the entrance and peering inside. At first she could see nothing, as the blue light cast menacing shadows over everything in sight, pulling the walls into darkness and then out again. But when she looked closer she could tell it was coming from Crystal. Big surprise.  
  
She was sitting in the middle of the room, her hair brushed smoothly around her face, framing it in a sheet of darkest brown. She was cradling something in her lap, the blue light encasing her entire body, like an aura. As Hermione inched closer she noticed that it was less of a something and more of a someone; more specifically, Draco.  
  
"He's alive," Crystal suddenly said, her voice low and calm. Hermione continued to move, unfazed. She was used to Crystal reading her thoughts now. "He is only sleeping."  
  
"You seem to like doing that to people," Hermione replied, walking steadily to where Crystal sat and knelt in front of her. She looked into Draco's face and noticed the unbelievable calm that shown from it. She had never seen him this calm save for that split moment in the lake room with the gold of the setting sun playing across his features. Still looking into his face she asked, "Why did you do this to Harry? Why did you choose this path for him?" She was surprised that she spoke these words quietly, as it was her intention to scream out in rage.  
  
Crystal flipped her hair over her shoulder and away from her face. She seemed to move in a sort of slow motion, her hair fluttering down over her shoulder and her dark eyes blazing with the night. "I did not choose it," she said. Hermione looked up at her.  
  
"And still you lie."  
  
"I tell no lies." Hermione watched as Crystal brushed the hair away from Draco's face and laid a hand over his chest as it rose and fell with his silent breath. She touched him like she loved him, as if she were his mother. "With this I tell not what I wish, but what has been shown to me."  
  
"But you set the paths for everyone. You choose the outcome," Hermione protested.  
  
Crystal turned her eyes away. "No, you don't understand--,"  
  
"I could if you let me. You're the Wanderer, and an Oracle of Prodigy; you make the decisions for everyone."  
  
"Yes and no. My powers are complicated. You could not even begin to understand them." She looked up to Hermione, and the girl returned her gaze. There was the sudden look of confusion in her face and the distant look of a Seer at work in her eyes. When she spoke next, it was almost in a hazy manner. "No," she said breathlessly. "You would understand them. You'd understand my powers farther than any mortal could. And you will, because you will have known them."  
  
"What did you say?" Hermione asked in a voice no higher than a whisper. She was not sure if this was Crystal or the Wanderer speaking. But the Oracle blinked once and the life came back into her face, her trance broken.  
  
"I speak nothing of concern," she told her, looking away. "Nothing."  
  
Pursuing the subject no longer, Hermione returned her attention back to Draco. "What's happening to him then?" She sat back, bringing her knees up so she could rest her chin on them. "I've never seen him so peaceful."  
  
"He is dreaming," Crystal told her, gently removing Draco's head from her lap. She set his head down onto the floor and stood up, staring down at him. "He is dreaming," she repeated, although with much more sorrow than before. She turned away from him and headed for the far wall where Hermione noticed that the chains had been brutally ripped out and were strewn across the floor. But as she watched the older girl lay her hand against the wall she noticed that in one small breath, the imposing magic that was her birthright fell away and she was merely Crystal Tiara once more. The light continued to pulse.  
  
"And why is he dreaming?" Hermione asked. A tugging on her skirt caught her attention and she looked down to see Draco's hand intertwined in her dress, his knuckles white from holding so hard. "What is he dreaming?"  
  
"He is dreaming because he needs to," Crystal replied, her voice choked-as if she was trying not to cry. "He can only remember through his dreams."  
  
Hermione continued to stare at Draco's hand. "About his Dark Mark?" she asked. Crystal nodded.  
  
"About his Dark Mark," she confirmed.  
  
Draco's grip tightened.  
  
****  
  
Ron lay sprawled across the Gryffindor sofa, his arm thrown over his eyes so he wouldn't be blinded by the fire's light. With the rain pouring outside, it seemed that everything around him was far too cheerful and bright.  
  
Rain.  
  
~The beauty of the rain is when it falls.~  
  
Ron groaned and flipped over on the cushions, burying his face into the crimson fabric. Why did Malfoy's words keep echoing in his head? Why did Malfoy echo in his head period?! The guy was an insignificant slimeball and his opinion did not matter, especially on the subject of Harry and the prophecy.  
  
~The prediction Crystal made down in the dungeons was magnificent. It embodies everything that's beautiful about Potter within it.~  
  
Ron sat up and threw the pillow away from his face. It flew across the room and landed in the fire, blazing into a spurt of white flames before returning to its original state once more. Scowling, Ron rose to his feet and began pacing. He had so much pent up energy, and he needed some way to rid himself of it all. There were still many rooms for him to investigate in the tower, but he was afraid to venture out of the safety of the common room. He couldn't face anyone at the moment.  
  
And it wasn't for the sadness and pity he felt for Harry, or the shared feelings of sympathy he felt with Hermione and Leo, or the anger and rage he felt toward Malfoy and Crystal. Ron pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, trying to push out the thought before he could finish it. But it came anyway.  
  
He couldn't face anyone because he wasn't anyone. As shameful as it was for him to admit self-pity, it was true.  
  
He was not Harry, fighting the forces of evil as they beat him down at every turn, and he wasn't Hermione, whose knowledge and kindness aided Harry and even called forth a strange friendship with Malfoy. And even Draco had a sense of significance to himself. He knew something, meant something and was just another part of the puzzle that could complete the entire picture. And Leo and Crystal were the ones to put the puzzle together.  
  
But he, Ron, was nothing. He had no place to be there, no right and no importance. He didn't own a scar, didn't obtain a Dark Mark, hadn't been tormented by Purgatory and wasn't overly powerful. In fact, he had sent Harry to be trapped in Crystal's mind and brought his near death unto himself.  
  
"And the sixth Weasley strikes again," he muttered, sighing heavily and let his hand fall away from his face. Then everything became enclosed to him, the fire much too hot. But he knew the stuffiness was from the guilt at pitying himself, and he wished he could stop but couldn't help it. "I need air," he informed no one, and moved over to the window.  
  
Putting his weight behind the frame, he pushed open the heavy, glass and leaned out. A gust of cold, brittle wind splashed his face and the pouring rain had already soaked him and the carpet underneath. But he didn't care. It felt refreshing.  
  
Gazing out across the dull gray landscape, Ron could only make out Enol's illusion faintly. The trees were swaying in the strong wind and the river to the side of the tower was overflowing with fresh rainwater. But he knew that underneath all this false glory lay souls, tired and worn, waiting for their time to come. And already he was thinking of Harry, and wondering if, by the end of this year, he would probably be one of these souls.  
  
Thinking of Harry also made Ron imagine he was seeing him down on the ground, the rain coming no where near him and his white tunic standing out in the darkness.  
  
But-wait.  
  
Ron leaned farther out the window, the rain pelting down his back. He narrowed his eyes to get a better look and, sure enough, his assumptions were confirmed. It was Harry, wandering outside on a day like this; not to mention a place like this. But what was he doing?  
  
But as Ron looked closer, he noticed that Harry wasn't alone. Something smaller and brighter was leading him through the rain, his hand raised into the air in front of him and warding the cold rain off of both of them. It was Leo.  
  
****  
  
"Where are we going?" Harry cried over the wind, crouching away from the rain. He needn't have bothered, though. Leo had set up a gentle force field around them to keep them dry. He held out his hand in front of him to keep it active, although he did not seem to notice the downpour at all.  
  
"Trust me," he answered, leading the way into the forest. "Just-just trust me," he repeated, quietly this time. He continued to brave the terrain, his steps flawless in the horrible rain. But when Harry looked closer he noticed that Leo's feet never really touched the ground.  
  
But he followed with no more doubt clouding his mind. He tailed the boy closely, keeping him within his line of vision. The storm plaguing Enol was vicious, bending the trees and overflowing the stream.  
  
"What's with the fierce storm?" Harry shouted into Leo's ear, only to be faintly heard. But Leo caught every word.  
  
"It's Crystal," he told him, tilting his head back but keeping his eyes in front of him. "It's reflecting her mood. This either means that she's depressed, she's angry.or she's actually sad." But by the tone of his voice, he highly doubted his last statement.  
  
For a long time after that he said nothing, simply leading the way through the dense trees. Harry focused his concentration on keeping his footing. He, unfortunately, did not possess the ability of self- levitation, and he had to make sure he didn't find himself knee deep in a puddle. Tree roots, stones, and other forest nuisances were of no concern to him; the illusion took care of them.  
  
It seemed that Leo's destination was pretty far, for Harry noticed that they should have been walking for well over half an hour now. Not to mention that they were going at a slow pace due to the rain. But just when his still tired body began to ache for the softness of a bed, Leo stopped walking.  
  
"Here," he said, and then lowered his hand, rooting the force field into the ground. Harry raised his eyes from the ground, barely making out where they had stopped.  
  
They were in the middle of a clearing, the trees surrounding them in a tight and secure circle. Although Harry did not know it, this was the same clearing Hermione had found Draco standing in; the same clearing where their bond had been created through fear.  
  
"Where's here?" Harry asked. Leo just shook his head.  
  
"Just wait," he replied. Shrugging, Harry settled himself on the forest floor, glad that the force field had covered the wet ground as it was implanted. He sat down and leaned back, his legs stretched out in front of him. Leo watched him, his gaze silent and calm, as Harry gathered together the breath he had lost on the walk. His chest rose rapidly, the cold air refreshing yet stinging his lungs. Leo hadn't thought that maybe this expedition would be a little much for him, but it was something Harry had to see. But soon Harry's senses picked up, and he raised his head to meet Leo's eyes.  
  
"What?" he asked rather defensively, just a hint of friendly guard surrounding it. Leo shrugged.  
  
"You look tired."  
  
"I am."  
  
Leo tilted his head. "So why didn't you say anything?"  
  
"It's not a big deal," Harry replied, but immediately proved himself wrong by falling into a horrid coughing fit. Leo waited until he had finished, his face looking pale when finally he ceased.  
  
"I should have let you rest," Leo insisted, his tone only slightly regretful.  
  
"You should just drop the subject," Harry countered, although he smiled slightly.  
  
Leo sighed. "I should've waited for a better time."  
  
"You should pay more attention to your charges," Harry said, and pointed past Leo's leg toward the clearing. The boy followed his gesture curiously.  
  
Standing in the clearing, his dark demeanor unmistakable, was a soul. The white slits for his eyes glowed savagely, yet they were not narrowed in hatred. It stood very still, the rain almost falling right through it.  
  
Harry automatically jumped to his feet, his heart beating faster and faster. He involuntarily turned his back and was about to run right out of the protective shield when Leo's hand stopped him.  
  
"No," he said, his eyes simple and at ease. "He is not mad. He will not hurt us."  
  
Harry looked down at him and then looked at the darkened shadow blurred from the on coming rain.  
  
"He?" Harry asked. Leo looked to the ground.  
  
"Harry Potter, meet.my brother, Jakob."  
  
****  
  
Did sleep always require so much pain? He did not remember ever feeling this way. Stiff. Cold. Fear, that was different. Fear was common in the tower. And sleepless nights. He could remember that. But pain in his sleep. Pain only came when he woke up afterward. But this was real. This was pain. And it had broken his barriers of sleep.  
  
Open your eyes Draco. See what you have forgotten.  
  
He opened his eyes. He could not move. Frozen in a chair. Around him was a circle of hooded creatures. People. People he knew. Death Eaters. He flicked his gaze in front of him and another figure stood there. Tall and imposing; night's shadow had come to take him away. He did not know what was going on. He did not know why he felt deceived, mislead.betrayed.  
  
"Let us begin," the Shadow said, his voice shrill yet low, piercing yet rumbling. But what would he begin?  
  
Open your ears Draco. Hear what you have forgotten.  
  
"Child of the night, release who you are and cease to be nothing but His," the Death Eaters were chanting. "Child of the night, release what you are and begin to be everything of His. Child of the night, release what you'll be and you will always belong to Him."  
  
"Hold out your arm," the Shadow said. He obeyed, and the movement broke him from within. The Shadow pointed its wand to his arm, the white of his skin vulnerable. He could only watch. "Child of the night, bear what is mine. Know it to be your place and where you belong. Faith unto me and faith returned to you. Always put a lord before your own."  
  
Open yourself Draco. Feel what you have forgotten.  
  
A brand was burned into his skin. Heat more than pain. He couldn't say anything, didn't you know? He did not choose this. He was all but given a chance.  
  
Black skull. Protruding snake. It would make them scream, to see it. It burnt like a brand, but their cries would only hurt more.  
  
"Child of the night, hold your burden." The chant went on. "Blood of your blood. Blood of His blood. Blood of us all."  
  
Dagger in its hand. Was it really there? Where were they now, for the light began to change. Blue was not the fire, golden was fire. Fire was red, orange, yellow. Never blue. Light was not blue. And stone was not dark and years away. His manor was perfect. Made to his liking. What was going on?  
  
Dagger in its hand. The silver was stained, and the stain was red. Blood was red; so was fire. But the light was blue. But the dagger was real, and real was real. But why a dagger? Why such a blade, when spells could hurt so much deeper?  
  
Dagger in its hand. It was meant for torture. Or could it be part of the ritual? What had they said? Why were there women? His head in her lap and her fingers cradled him. Don't let them use me, he cried. Don't let them near.  
  
Dagger in its hand. It held it high above his head. Blood dripped from the tip as it plunged into his skin. Pain never felt so sweet! Sweet, sweet, as a dew drops first day and honey running softly through the trees!  
  
"Blood of your blood. Blood of my blood. Your soul is no longer yours."  
  
Was it a trick? Was this deception? He would never pay a price so grand. Never.  
  
Do you remember?  
  
Yes.  
  
But why don't you know?  
  
We cannot know what we do not want to.  
  
The Dark Mark. It was different. A slash near the skull, smaller than anything else. Insignificant. Utterly important. Why had he felt betrayed? Draco, Draco, know what you have forgotten. Draco, Draco, feel and see and hear. It happened, long ago. When you were scared and they didn't stop. You were branded but you never belonged. You were chosen yet you never willingly came. You were used when you would have done it anyway. Deception can hurt where love can heal. Your path can never be altered.  
  
****  
  
Ron closed the window and slid the bolt home. He stood there for sometime, staring at the rain beating against the glass. He wanted to go outside and follow Harry; he wanted to make sure he was okay. But he couldn't. Fear had always been his downfall.  
  
"Where is the ring I gave you?" Crystal asked, her voice breaking into his thoughts.  
  
"In my room," he replied.  
  
"Always wear it," she told him, her voice closer now, almost to his ear. He looked towards the ground.  
  
"I don't want to wear it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because it came from you."  
  
There was a short pause. "Wear it.because I gave it to you," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. The touch was warm and it took away the cold that the rain had brought. Ron looked up and into his reflection in the window. He could only see his face, because there was only his face.  
  
"You touch me and I feel better, because it reminds me that you are human," he said, slowly turning around. "And I'd ask you to hold me, and help me to be strong." He looked behind him, and his serene expression did not change. "But you couldn't, because you are not there."  
  
The fire cracked solemnly and the shadows danced across the walls, but the room was empty save for him. It had always been empty, and she had just never been.  
  
.Ron woke with a start, his body jerking upward. He had fallen asleep on the sofa after he closed the window, and the dream he had had wasn't exactly a reassuring one.  
  
But something strange seemed to have overcome him, for he rose silently to his feet and made his way up to his dormitory room. Once inside, he went to his nightstand and opened the drawer, rummaging in it for a few seconds before retrieving something.  
  
It was the ring.  
  
"The hilt was managed once, and now it shall be managed again," he said, slipping the intricate circle onto his finger. And even afterward, Ron hadn't the slightest clue to why he had said what he had said.  
  
****  
  
"What are you doing?" Harry asked. Leo had stepped out of the force field, the rain soaking him the minute he entered it, and made his way over to the soul. To his brother.  
  
"I want you to watch something, Harry Potter," Leo was screaming, making sure his voice was heard over the violent storm. "I want you to see my brother on his judgment day."  
  
Harry's eyes went wide. "What? What judgment day?"  
  
Leo had come face to face with the shadow now, and the piercing white eyes of the soul stared down at him. "You were gone when I spoke of it," Leo called behind his back. "It is the day each soul in Purgatory waits for. It is the day when they return to their place of birth in Heaven, or suffer forever in the pit of Hell. They go to their place of eternity but leave behind their spirit with us."  
  
Harry shook his head, the information swirling around in his mind. "But why do I have to watch? This should be something between your brother, your sister, and yourself."  
  
"No!" Leo had rounded on him, the anger in his tone coming forth furiously. "That demoness is not worthy to face her brother! She has gone against everything that an Oracle of Prodigy stands for, tipping the scale between good and evil. She will never regain the forgiveness to do what she has promised."  
  
"You can't say that about her," Harry heard himself reply. He did not know why he was sticking up for Crystal, but there was something inside of him that was saying that she was receiving more accusation than what was sufficient. "Why are you putting her through so much guilt? You're her brother; I thought you loved her!"  
  
"I did," Leo bellowed, his hands clenching at his sides. "But she has betrayed me! It is more complicated than any of you could ever know."  
  
"How? She's dealing with a gift she didn't ask for! She didn't have an alternative for this life." And suddenly Harry's mind remembered the one other path Crystal was given: death on the moor, blood of the earth.not a soul to see her lost life. There was an understanding between them now, between The-Boy-Who-Lived, and an Oracle who wished she never had. "What else is there to know?"  
  
"Everything else! 'There is a balance to all things, everyone has a purpose. We are darkness and we are light', words of our very oath!"  
  
"What?" Harry asked. The child was hysterical, speaking nonsense or else things Harry did not know. "Where did that come from?"  
  
"We are bound to those words, Harry Potter," the boy said, turning away from him and facing the featureless shadow once more. "Now watch as I share this with you. You must see this." He raised his hand to the soul, his palm held open and exposed.  
  
"But why?" Harry asked in desperation. "Why do I have to know this?"  
  
"Because you must!" Leo cried, and then his being burst with the unbelievable power that he was able to mask so well. "WOHS EM EFIL! SHOW ME LIFE!"  
  
Harry watched as a great beam of light fell from the sky onto the soul. It held perfectly still, staring at the little boy in front of him with his arms raised and his hair flying about his face in the wind. The rain had abruptly stopped, causing the force field around Harry to disappear. It seemed that even nature must hold her breath for an Oracle.  
  
Leo, breathing hard, had his eyes closed and was clenching his raised fists. It looked as if he were seeing something in his mind's eye, things he did not want to see. There was a moment when he jerked involuntarily, and then fell to his knees with a great cry. All the while the soul of Jakob watched him, his tall frame staring mindlessly down at the brother he never knew.  
  
"Such a life," Leo said, his voice strained. "Such a life to one of my own blood. And I never knew."  
  
The beam seemed to glow brighter, although this change was dwarfed by the change following it. Horrendous cries had begun erupting in the air around them, growing each moment and suffocating them from within their clearing. Harry clamped his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sound. But he kept on watching, knowing that whatever was about to happen would be priceless beyond his years.  
  
****  
  
"What is that?" Hermione asked, looking up from Draco's face. She looked to Crystal standing by the wall and noticed that she had her head perked up too.  
  
"I don't know, but it sounds familiar," she said. It was a faint buzzing noise, the vibration of it tickling Hermione's throat. She shook her head at the sensation and set Draco's head back onto the stone flooring, standing up and brushing off her dress.  
  
"You're right," she said, moving to stand next to the Oracle. "It sounds familiar. But why does it seemed muffled?"  
  
"My magic," Crystal replied. "It has created a shield around the dungeons." She then rose into the air, light as a feather in the wind, so that she could peer out the minute window near the top of the wall. She looked out, her white gown fluttering around her feet. "Oh no," she whispered, her face turning a pasty white. Hermione looked up at her.  
  
"What? What's going on?" she asked. Crystal didn't look at her.  
  
"Judgment," was all she said in return. Hermione's eyes widened. "Quick," Crystal said, the minute her feet were back on the ground. "He's performing a judgment, but it's no ordinary one. Besides, he can't be out there by himself! The souls--,"  
  
"Don't exactly like him," Hermione interrupted. "He told me."  
  
"Then you know he is in danger." The Oracle turned towards the door and started running for it, lowering the pulsing light as she went until it was entirely gone. They both ran into the hall and hurried to its end, hitting the landing of the stairs and flying up the steps as well.  
  
"What about Draco?" Hermione asked, tailing Crystal closely from behind. "Can we just leave him there?"  
  
"He'll be safe," Crystal answered, opening the door at the top and falling into the corridor. "He needs to stay that way for awhile."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because he needs to remember," she answered, and then said no more for quite some time.  
  
****  
  
The two girls continued on their journey through the maze of corridors, each one breathing harder as they pressed on. When they hit the entrance hall, Crystal pointed a finger towards the double doors. They flew open at the gesture and proceeded outside at top speeds.before abruptly stopping on the foyer.  
  
The cries were coming from all around, each one more excruciating than the first. The Oracle threw her head this way and that, trying to find the source of the commotion. But the fantasy of Enol blocked her view.  
  
"Gone with thee," she said hurriedly, waving her hand over the landscape. Following her gesture, the illusion disappeared only to reveal the agony of thousands of souls. "What is going on here?" Crystal screamed, her eyes wide and dull. Hermione came up behind her, her hands pressed firmly over her ears.  
  
"It's worse than last time. There's more pain and suffering rather than anger," she said. The Oracle did not seem at all happy. She hurried down the steps and over to the nearest soul, crouching on the ground and cowering away from an invisible torture.  
  
"Laeh rea dilch," Crystal said. She touched a finger to the shadow's brow and instantly it was cured. It rose noiselessly to its feet, staring at her with blank eyes. "Mor fereh wemac eht neecile?" she asked it. The shadow did not speak, but raised a darkened hand, pointing above the trees.  
  
Crystal looked up and her eyes fell upon the column of light that she had missed before. She quickly beckoned Hermione over to her, her eyes never leaving the beacon in the sky. "Are you good with pain?" she asked when the girl came running to her. Hermione looked her at, puzzled.  
  
"Yes," she replied, not sure what purpose the question held. Crystal snatched her hand up in her own, holding the other high above her head.  
  
"Then hold on," she warned, and then let brought her hand crashing down.  
  
It was a tremendous blow to the chest, if anyone wished to describe it. One minute you could be standing, unharmed, on the outskirts of the forest, and next you were blown backwards right to the center of the trees. Hermione actually fell to the ground by the forcing hit, stumbling over her garments and landing in the rain-soaked mud.  
  
"Hermione," someone said from behind, and both girls spun around to see who it was. Harry stood near the edge of the clearing they had landed in, his being, dry as a summer day, yet his expression completely foreign to him.  
  
"Harry? Wh-what are you doing out here? You should be in bed, resting," Hermione started, struggling to her feet. But the ground was still slippery, and she fell back down again. Harry hurried to her side and helped her to her feet. Once she could stand on her own, he backed away, allowing her to try and straighten out her dress. But he still had that dead, almost angry look still in his eyes.  
  
"You shouldn't be out here," he suddenly told her. Hermione looked up from her skirt and stared at him.  
  
"What do you mean I shouldn't be out here?"  
  
"It's too dangerous."  
  
"Yes, but more so for someone who's ill."  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "I'm not ill."  
  
"Yes you are. Besides, Crystal brought me out here."  
  
But at the sound of the Oracle's name, Harry's attention was diverted. He looked suddenly horrified and looked past her shoulder towards the center of the clearing. Following his gaze, Hermione turned to see what he was looking at. But what they saw did not matter to Crystal. They would watch if they must.  
  
"Leo," she cried, her hair and drapery fanning out behind her. And it was no wonder either, as her magic instantly released a shield surrounding them, blocking out the sounds of the tortured souls. "What do you think you're doing?" It was odd hearing these words come from her. She sounded more like a scolding mother than anything else. "You're not supposed to be judging these things if I'm around!"  
  
"Shut up!" Leo cried, his eyes squeezed shut. For once, he sounded like a little boy, having gotten in trouble for disobeying the rules. "You can't tell me what to do anymore! I am an Oracle as well and I am old enough to take care of myself. You found that out a long time ago."  
  
"Off the point, Leo," Crystal responded, keeping her distance from her brother. "The souls do not welcome you. Judging a soul alone is dangerous! What if it attacked you, or worse! What if you entered one?"  
  
"They won't attack me. Moreover, they're less likely to hurt me than you are."  
  
Crystal faltered, words hitting her once more. Insults from a brother his age weren't accepted lightly. "How do you know they won't hurt you? How can you be so confident?"  
  
"Because," Leo said, turning around and actually looking at her. "He's my brother."  
  
And let the records show that no other time had Crystal looked so surprised and terrified than at that very moment.  
  
****  
  
Ron tried running again but it was no use. Those screams were so painful, so agonizingly horrid that they rendered him helpless. He could remember hearing them faintly through sleep one night, their tone drowned out by the barriers of unconsciousness, but this was so much more than that. So much more.  
  
He pressed on, tired of playing the useless sidekick. "If they can do it then so can I," he said to himself, his own words lost in the wave of misery.  
  
The moment the cries had erupted Ron had rushed to the window, eager to find the source of suffering. Upon gazing into Purgatory, two figures had caught his attention; two, slender frames, clad in white and rushing towards the woods. It could be no one else but Crystal and Hermione. When the Oracle took Hermione's hand and they disappeared, Ron had bolted out of the common room, reaching for his cloak on his way out. He would not be left behind again. He would be at his friend's side.  
  
But as he flew down the last staircase, the pounding screeches ringing in his ears, he noticed that he was not the only one left in the tower. Someone else was making their way to the oak doors, though their journey seemed to be more difficult. As Ron descended the final steps he noticed the pale, blonde head struggling to stay up and the white skin of his hand as it reached weakly for the handle. Draco seemed to be having quite a bit of trouble standing on his own two feet, and it was apparent that he would do better lying asleep in bed.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Ron called, walking over to the other boy who was leaning heavily against the door. Draco turned his head to see who had spoken, though the cold cruelty that he reserved for a Weasley was absent in his tired face.  
  
"Weasley?" he asked, squinting slightly. Ron came to his side.  
  
"What happened to you?" he asked. And to his astonishment, it was not spoken with brutality. But he had to yell to be heard, as the cries were growing in intensity. Draco clamped a hand over his ear, his head sensitive to the sound.  
  
"Damn Oracle knocked me out," he replied. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Can you stop that screaming?"  
  
Ron snorted. "No, you bloke," he replied, casting him an annoyed look. But at the lack of Draco's independence, he grabbed his arm and slung it around his neck, heaving him into a standing position. Draco seemed utterly confused, and stared at him with blank, gray eyes. "If anybody asks, I had a severe case of momentary stupidity and you just looked unbelievably pathetic. Otherwise, I never helped you," Ron said. Draco only nodded.  
  
"Yeah, alright."  
  
With that, Ron reached forward with his other arm and pulled the door open, the echoing terror increasing in volume. "You're going to have to run as hard as you can," Ron screamed into his ear. "We're going far."  
  
"To the clearing," Draco answered, stepping in time to Ron's feet. "We need to get to the clearing. Ah, shit," he suddenly said. Ron didn't stop running with him.  
  
"What?"  
  
Draco looked devastated. "Now I owe you."  
  
Ron shook his head, trying to suppress a grin in spite of the current events. "You have no idea."  
  
****  
  
They continued their journey in silence; even if they wanted to speak it would be lost in the chaos. At first both boys were afraid to venture into Enol without the illusion around them, what with the faceless souls suffering at every turn. But the column of light in the distance drove them to press on, knowing that something was happening and they wanted to be there to see it. They needed to be there to see it.  
  
"You're getting heavy," Ron said after a while. He hiked Draco's arm higher around his neck and clasped his side with his other hand as best he could. "And you smell like rain."  
  
"I was in the dungeon," Draco told him, trying to shift more of his weight onto his own two feet. "And you're just weak."  
  
"Are you asking to be left behind or something? Because arguing will grant you that."  
  
"Shut up and help me walk," Draco answered, and sure enough, Ron quieted down. It was rather odd. Never had they exchanged this many words without insulting one another's lineage and aiming for one another's throats. "Hey, Weasley?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I still think you're family's stupid."  
  
Ron was panting hard from the prospect of running. Sweat drenched his brow and had dampened the back of his tunic. "Good. And I still think you're family would do better in a mental institution."  
  
Draco winced as he distributed far too much weight on his weak legs. "Good."  
  
They pressed on.  
  
After a few moments, however, they were only yards away from where the clearing was. Draco relieved Ron of his dead weight and began walking on his own, slowing down every minute. Both looked, wide-eyed, as the beam of light rose high into the air, the warmth of it prominent. They tilted their heads back, trying to see just how far the light went.  
  
"Is it just me," Draco started to say, his pace reducing itself to a leisurely stroll. "Or has the screaming died down?"  
  
"It's not just you," Ron answered. "It sounds faraway now, but that's impossible. There are souls everywhere in Enol."  
  
"But look. If the illusion's gone, how is it that the forest is still here?"  
  
Ron stopped, looking around himself frantically and suspiciously. "I hadn't even noticed."  
  
"That's because you're dim. Now come on, we're almost there--,"  
  
"I am not dim," Ron retorted, cutting in front him. "It's just hard to thoroughly observe things when dead souls are crying all around you and you have to carry a fainted man across the landscape."  
  
Enraged, Draco pushed his shoulder from behind.hard.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
"I didn't faint, half-wit, the Oracle knocked me out. She's done it to everyone, even you."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "Yes, but I had the dignity to at least be injured, so I had a reason to pass out."  
  
"Are you saying I'm fragile?"  
  
"Of course not," he defended, hopping over a bush and barely missing a stray branch. "Because it goes without saying." Then he felt another hit on his shoulder and then a stinging pain at the back of his head. "Hey! You threw a rock at me!"  
  
"Oh, very observant, Weasley," Draco muttered. "Keep walking." Grumbling, Ron proceeded towards the clearing, his anger relieving the pang of immense uncertainty. But soon the unease fell back upon him as the scene in the clearing revealed itself to him in full measure.  
  
Everyone was there: Leo, Crystal, Hermione, and even Harry. But there was someone else; well, something else. Harry stood next to Hermione, well away from the two Oracles. They looked different from what he knew them to be. Harry looked angry more than anything, and Hermione was less afraid than she was interested and intent on what was happening. She stood a little behind Harry, her hand knotted in the fabric of his clothes. She had a habit of doing that, clinging to Harry when she was actually uncertain. It was the glow that was Harry, drawing strength from him when there was none around.  
  
But the Oracles were a completely different story. It was a ceremony of power, that's all Ron could draw from it. Leo knelt in front of the beam of light, standing within it the shadow of a soul. He had his arms raised before it and his eyes were squeezed shut. Behind him stood Crystal, her hands on his shoulders. By the look of things, it didn't seem that Leo wanted her there at all, as his hand clenched into fists as his sister's grip tightened. But the look of disappointment, anger, and calm on Crystal's face was set, and she would not move.  
  
"Judgment," Draco said, coming up from behind Ron. He spoke in a whisper, but because of the immense silence in the clearing, everyone heard. Harry and Hermione looked over at them, surprise overcoming all their emotions. Crystal turned as well, annoyed, but Leo did not notice; or if he did, he did not acknowledge it.  
  
"Get in here, now!" Crystal was screaming to them, her voice booming in the quiet. One hand remained on Leo's shoulder while the other raised itself towards them. Both boys were pushed into the center of the clearing, falling to the ground. With that done, Crystal returned to facing the soul in the light, her determination returning.  
  
"What was that about?" Ron asked, rising to his feet and helping Draco up, not minding his lack of finesse. Draco scowled at him as he took the offering hand.  
  
"I told you, it's a judgment. They're sending that thing to Heaven or Hell, whichever place it deserves to be."  
  
"But you were also disturbing the force field Crystal placed," Hermione told them coming towards them. Harry was beside her.  
  
"Tell me what's really happening," Ron said, disregarding Draco's scowl. He neglected to ask why either of them was out here, as it was clear they had their reasons. Now, he only needed to know why he was out here at their side.  
  
"It's a judgment alright," Harry said, staring over towards the ritual and absently pulling Ron and Hermione farther from it. "But Malfoy underestimates it. That's no ordinary soul.that's their brother."  
  
"What?" both Ron and Draco exclaimed. Hermione urged them to be silent.  
  
"Quiet, both of you! Harry, catch them up on what's been going on."  
  
"Yeah, okay," he said, and turned back to the boys in hushed whispers. Having already heard the tale of the long lost Tiara sibling, Hermione brought her focus back to the event at hand. Everything had gone eerily silent and the world they were in seemed to fall in a time freeze. The only sound was coming from the monotonous whispers of little Leo, his lips barely moving as he spoke under his breath.  
  
Crystal, without actually speaking the words, had told both Harry and her that judging their blood wouldn't be easy. It required a lengthy ceremony, one where the performer had to sacrifice a great amount of magic for the cause. Thus was her reason for growing angry with Leo. He was not yet old enough to handle such a job. So she decided to transfer her magic over to him. She went up behind him, muttered some words in Ytineres, and placed her hands slowly on his shoulders. The silence had become prominent then, and Leo had begun the incantation.  
  
"But why the words?" Draco asked, staring back at the three held strong by magic. "The most he said last time was 'show me life'. Otherwise, he was done."  
  
"Well, we don't exactly know why there needs to be a special ritual," Hermione said, moving over to the boys once more. "But I doubt any of us want to go over there and find out."  
  
"And Leo brought you out here to watch it?" Ron questioned. "Why?"  
  
"Do you really think there's an answer for that?" Harry replied. He sighed. "I just want to go to bed."  
  
Ron took a step back, looking at him thoroughly. "You're really pale."  
  
"You think? I've been out here for over an hour. In the rain." Harry stared at him, obviously disgruntled. "Without a cloak."  
  
"Wait," Hermione started, placing a hand on Harry's arm to quiet him down. "Listen."  
  
"To what?" Draco asked.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Listen to Leo," she said. Ron stared at her.  
  
"Yeah, he's mumbling something. We know. What's the big deal?"  
  
"Listen to what he's actually saying, that's the big deal! Now be quiet, all of you."  
  
Harry shook his head, apparently longing for a time of rest. "Hermione, you know we can't understand a word they're saying!"  
  
"Listen," Crystal's voice suddenly said, her strong tone surprising them all. The four of them turned towards the Oracle, taken aback that she had her head turned to them and was staring with her dark eyes. "Listen to him."  
  
"There is a balance to all things, everything has a purpose."  
  
Harry furrowed his brow, straightening up. "Do you hear that?"  
  
"We are darkness, we are light. We are shadowed, and we are bright."  
  
"What's he saying?" Ron tried. Harry's eyes just grew very wide.  
  
"He said that to me before. He's reciting their oath; the Oracle's oath."  
  
"We are caged, and we are free. We are blind, yet we may see."  
  
"Do you feel that?" Hermione asked, her voice soft and dreamy. The three boys turned to her and saw that she had her eyes closed and was breathing deeply. "Do-do you feel that?" she repeated. "It hurts."  
  
"Hermione!" Harry cried. She had suddenly lost it and fell backwards, her legs going limp from under her. Harry caught her in his arms, her body suddenly light and feeble. "What's happening to her?"  
  
"Listen," Crystal said again. "Listen to him."  
  
"From one side is Dark, to the other, Light. To neither are we bound; to both we are tied."  
  
"She's right," Draco suddenly said, slowly doubling over. "I can feel it. I can.it hurts."  
  
"What's going on?!"  
  
"Ron, quiet down, please! Just take Hermione."  
  
Ron took in a deep and shuddering breath, but he held out his arms towards Harry. "Yeah, okay." He bent down and scooped her up, the skirt of her dress draping his arms. "What's going on?"  
  
"Every blessing, we'll know, though our hearts stay impure. Every sin, we'll have done, though for sins we shall yearn."  
  
The ground began to shake under them, their footing growing unsure. Panicking, Ron fell to his knees and clutched Hermione in his arms so she'd stay safe. Harry held on to Draco's shoulder to steady him, but remained standing. "The ground," he said, staring at the sodden earth. "It's breaking."  
  
"Breaking?" Ron cried.  
  
"When powers unite, powers may fall. Hell be our stay; Heaven, our call."  
  
Harry looked toward the Oracles, the thundering roar of power beating within his very heart. Beside him Draco was on his hands and knees, gasping for breath. It would have been in Harry's nature to see if he was alright, but regular thoughts evaded him now. He had eyes only for what was happening.  
  
"Harry," Ron suddenly whispered, although the words rumbled audibly in his ears. "Harry, is that what I think it is?"  
  
Harry looked over to his best friend. He saw Ron hold Hermione close to his chest, but his head was tilted back and he was staring, awestruck, at the sky. Harry followed his gaze to see what had caught him in such wonder. At the top of the golden column of light, swirling ferociously with blazing white clouds and a dark, sapphire sky, was the only place no one would ever live to see: Heaven.  
  
It was peace and tranquility; chaos and turmoil; order and mayhem. It was everything and nothing.  
  
It wasn't what Harry had expected. He had always thought of Heaven as a vague dream, with soft, fluffy clouds and warm, golden lights. He imagined choirs of immaculate angels, each one singing the world's praises. He envisioned the peace that would overcome the body, and the sweet, smiling face of someone who cared.  
  
But the scene before him, the tremendous sight, was nothing compared to what he had thought it to be. It was the sky during a ferocious storm, although light echoed from everything around. Everything was havoc and welcoming. Within him, Harry could feel a great swelling, one that almost over came him. It was the feeling of joyous excitement, the need to let others know what he was seeing becoming almost unbearable. He could scarcely breathe, his heart pounding audibly in his chest. It was-- .so.strange.  
  
"There it is," Leo said, staring at the sky and rising to his feet. He took a step back so he stood at Crystal's side. She didn't notice for she, too, was looking into the raging glory. Harry couldn't understand how he was able to hear them, but their words were strong and clear, so he listened. "It took a lot, but there it is."  
  
"Hell will open soon," Crystal answered. "It won't stay silent if Heaven won't. It'll want Jakob."  
  
Leo moved his eyes so that he looked up at his sister. His small hand reached out and took his sister's in his own. Surprised, Crystal looked down at him, absolutely nothing glowing through her eyes.  
  
"You won't let that happen," he said, sounding so young and innocent. "You won't let that happen, will you Crysi?"  
  
"No," Crystal said, her eyes lighting with joy although a smile did not appear on her lips. Harry squinted, trying to see her face better. "I won't let that happen."  
  
"Because you're my big sister?" Leo asked. She nodded slowly.  
  
"Yes. Because I'm your big sister and because Jakob was my big brother."  
  
Leo shivered slightly. As if on response, Harry did as well. "What will you do?" he continued, looking down at the ground below him. Crystal followed his eyes and knelt down, her hand still holding her brother's.  
  
"I'll close it," she said firmly. "I'll have to close it. But I need your help." Leo nodded slowly and deliberately. "I need you to lead Jakob up there." She pointed to the sky and in doing so, sent Heaven into a frenzy, the clouds quickening in their movements and a streak of light flashing across the sky. After a moment, it settled once more. "He doesn't know where to go, so you'll have to lead him. Can you do that?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then do so," Crystal said, letting go of his hand. "It's happening now."  
  
Leo suddenly looked back to where Harry and the others were clustered. The look in his eyes was that of immense joy, more so than he had ever seen before. "Are you watching?" he asked, his stare locking onto Harry. Harry shivered noticeably, his hands gripping themselves into fists. "Are you watching everything?"  
  
"Yes," Harry replied, although he couldn't remember saying anything at all. "I'm watching."  
  
"Good." Leo turned back towards the column. "Don't blink," he said. He shimmered slightly before dissolving into his swirl of blue lights. The small orbs floated towards the silent shadow hovering in the beam and encircled him.  
  
"Say your good-byes brother," Crystal said, watching as the lights lifted the soul towards Heaven. "Time will allow you no others."  
  
At that very moment a shrill cry wrenched the air. It stabbed its way into Harry's heart and penetrated his very being. In response, the ground before Crystal burst open and a horrendous flame rose to meet her. But it was no ordinary fire. The heat it gave off was sinister, singeing the edges of Harry's tunic. The surrounding trees simply withered away into black ash, the effects spreading throughout the forest. Even Leo, who had traveled quite a ways away, was halted by the flames. He was forced to materialize back into himself, his small body recoiling from the fire.  
  
"Crysi!" he cried, staring down to where she had last been. Harry quickly searched the clearing for Crystal even though the flames stung his eyes. He called her name out a few times, but the attempts were in vain. He could not see her.  
  
"Harry!" Ron's voice broke through Harry's panic, the alarm unnerving. He had almost forgotten the others behind him, their presence lost until this moment.  
  
He spun around and looked to Ron still crouched on the ground. Hermione still lay in his arms, although something terribly wrong was happening to her. She was struggling to draw breath, one hand on her throat while the other gripped Ron's collar. She was slowly hunching into a ball, her eyes squeezed shut in her effort. "Harry, I don't know what's happening to her," Ron cried. He had Hermione across his lap, his hands holding her head up. His face had gone pale and ghostly, the opposite of what he usually looked like. Tears fell from his eyes, but Harry suspected they came from the burning fire rather than from grief.  
  
"Hermione," Harry said, kneeling beside them both. At his side Draco still rested on all fours, although he seemed to have calmed down now. He was taking long shuddering breathes and watching as Harry tried desperately to help his friend. "Hermione, breathe!"  
  
"Crystal!" she suddenly burst out, her body jerking in response. Harry fidgeted a little, his eyes darting across her face and trying to understand what was going on.  
  
"Wh-what about Crystal? Hermione, you have to breathe. Just.just calm down, okay? You don't have to rush anything. Just take one, slow breath." He gripped her shoulder lightly as she followed his instructions. With a great exertion she was able to cease her struggle and draw one satisfying breath. She took another and then another, each time the life coming back into her face. Soon, her breathing became regular, and she no longer looked to be in so much pain.  
  
"My god," Draco whispered from his side. Harry looked at him only to find his eyes intent on Hermione, although the wonder in his voice seemed to have no source. "Unbelievable."  
  
"Crystal," Hermione said again. She turned her eyes to the fire, the flames reflected in her brown eyes. "Harry.she's in there."  
  
Both Harry and Ron tore their eyes away from their friend and stared into the fire. In one fleeting moment Harry thought Hermione had gone mad. Nothing, not even beings of half immortality, could withstand such a merciless blaze. Because it wasn't just any fire, it was the inferno known as Hell. And Harry just had the gut feeling that such a place would show pity to no one.  
  
But then a swirl of dark hair and a flash of white skirts caught his eye and his face paled. She was in there, right at the heart of the flames. "Crystal," he screamed, springing to his feet and racing towards the flames. But he couldn't even get near. He had hardly taken a step when the heat became unbearable to the point of death. The hem of his trousers fell into nothing but ash, and his body was drenched in sweat before he could even comprehend of stepping away. If Draco hadn't stood forward and pulled him back, he probably would have died.  
  
"Damn it Potter, you could have been killed," he hissed, leaning heavily on Harry's shoulder. "Have you got shit for brains? She's a freaking Oracle! She's fine!"  
  
"But.--but that's Hell," Harry replied, his voice coming out dead and parched. The heat had dried out his mouth. "Nothing can survive that alone."  
  
"She's not alone," Draco answered, looking up into the beam. "Leo's helping her. He's giving her his powers." Harry looked up as well and watched as the boy was leading the soul to Heaven, his faced turned upward and making it impossible to see his features.  
  
"How do you know?" he asked. Draco shook his head.  
  
"Like Hell do I know," he answered.  
  
****  
  
Crystal whipped this way and that, her hands swiping uselessly at the flames. She was blind; blind, save for the churning colors of red, orange, and gold. She cried out, closed her eyes to the Fire, tried to run away.but it all ended in vain. There was no escape, and the heat was terrifying.  
  
She had opened Hell before -- thousands of evil souls had been given their due when she Judged them - but she had never actually been within the Fire. She had never known its power and horror. And now.now she felt the hideous pang of fear. It was torture beyond torture! The penetrating heat began within her; her heart burst into ashes and she could feel as the embers smoldered and spread. She was dying from inside, during her brother's very own Judgment.  
  
"Here," Leo's voice said, echoing in her mind. "I think you need help."  
  
A fine, sweet cold began to grow from inside Crystal, the epicenter starting in her chest. It spread throughout her body, pushing out the murderous heat and revitalizing her once again. Crystal stopped her thrashings and let the magic take over her, the flames licking her body but her senses numb to their blows.  
  
"Thank you," Crystal answered. She opened her eyes then. The light from the Fire was still increasingly painful, but she would bear it. It was the Voices that she feared.  
  
"You're lonely."  
  
"You're suffering."  
  
"Come home with us; we'll keep you company."  
  
"Your desires will kill you one day."  
  
Crystal tried to block the eerie whispers out of her head and concentrate on the task at hand. She needed to close Hell. She needed to close Hell now.  
  
"You've never known friendship."  
  
"You've never known joy."  
  
"You've never known a man, nor the satisfaction to lust. You've never known love."  
  
"Your desires will kill you one day. We can save you from them."  
  
She fell to her knees; the hard, coarse ground scraping her shins and sending fire rising up her arms. She ignored it. Her eyes held shut, she waved her hand in front of her face. A violet haze appeared and followed her hand where it went. Making the Celtic sign against enchantment in the air, she leaned forward and placed her fingers over the split in the earth. Her nimble touch found the beginning of the fissure and she began to feed her power into the earth. Slowly, ever so slowly, the ground beneath her began to mend.  
  
"You want what they have."  
  
"You want what they will never appreciate: friends, loves, lives."  
  
"You want a world without shadows of light and darkness made from Heaven's sorrows."  
  
"You're desires will kill you one day. We can save you from them. We know how."  
  
Crystal clenched her teeth, urging her power forward. The sooner she finished, the sooner the Voices left her. The wretched demons of Hell had a power all their own: temptation. It was hard to resist them; of that she was certain. She knew they were nothing but lies and secrets, each trying to lure her into the pit of eternal suffering. But it was hard not to listen. The more she ignored them, the louder they became. They dug into her mind and burrowed deep within her thoughts.  
  
"Have you ever felt the first stirrings of love?"  
  
"Have you ever lived life without taking care of others?"  
  
"Have you ever wanted to kill? The Higher Being forbids you to, but you are capable."  
  
"It gnaws at you. You want to kill. You've always wanted to kill. Come with us. We'll let you."  
  
"You're desires will kill you one day. We can save you from them. We know how. Come with us."  
  
She was almost done. The Fire was diminishing now, the flames decreasing and the heat evaporating. Even the Voices were growing faint; their demon owners falling back into their tormented abyss. The violet mist outlined the tremendous crease, leering at her through the Fire. But the task was almost done. Hell was closing, and her brother would rest forever in the civil chaos of Heaven.  
  
"Your successors!" a voice suddenly cried, edged with the unmistakable pleading of a soul in need. "Your successors will mark the end of you life! Take heed, dear Oracle! The day they come to their calling will be the day you will die!"  
  
Crystal froze, her fingers hovering over the ground. The Voices never sounded like this, shrill and beseeching. They were aggressive and demanding, not suffering cries on the brink of tears.  
  
"Let the Dark One never leave your sight! His is the fate to end all fates! The line of the great king lives, and the Sword shall rise again. Take heed, dear Oracle! The fate will end all fates, and the hand shall wield the Sword again."  
  
With a deafening rushing sound, Hell was sealed. The flames flew into the night sky as the last crack was mended, and the world was sent into a temporary blindness of golden blaze. Then the light died slowly and Enol was as it should have been. In the distance, Purgatory stood in all her horrific glory, while the illusion of the forest still lingered where Crystal knelt.  
  
Breathing hard, she struggled to her feet, her skirt bunched in her hands and her dark eyes wide with fear. She was shivering madly, though she had no idea why.  
  
"Look!" Ron cried, his voice jagged and strained. Crystal threw her head back and looked up, the sweat dripping from her brow.  
  
At the tip of the beam of light, their white hue vivid among other things, was Leo and Jakob. They hovered across from each other, strangers in life, companions in death; brothers in both. Crystal watched as Leo touched his hand to his chest and then reach forward to touch Jakob's. As his fingers came in contact, the eerie covering of a soul melted away and Jakob looked like Jakob had in the world.  
  
Enol feel into silence. All the world, from theirs to the real, stood and watched as the first Tiara sibling was finally revealed. It was slow; the tint of death slowly slipping from his body. It was not really him, for no amount of magic could bring a being back to life. But it was the essence of him, materializing as he passed into his other life.  
  
The hair like Leo's, the eyes like Crystal's, and the strong shoulders and supple hands of them both; he was their kin in every way.  
  
"Good bye, Jakob," Crystal whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. She dare not go up there and speak to him face to face. She was far too stained with the sins of her youth to face him. Only Leo was worthy. She said her farewells from the ground, gazing at him from a distance as she had been forced to do all her life. "Live well."  
  
She watched as Leo dissolved into light once more and began to descend back to earth. Jakob, on the other hand, began to rise. Rise into Heaven, amongst the blue sky and white clouds. Before anyone knew it, he was gone, and the Judgment had ended.  
  
The beam of light disappeared as Heaven closed its gates once more. The illusion fell slowly back into place and the black, charred lands of Purgatory faded into the pleasant forest again. There was an interval of silence here, one where the quiet was broken only by the deep and ragged breathing of all five occupants of the clearing. Crystal still stood in the middle of the circle of trees, her hands tight around the fabric of her dress and her head still thrown back. Her eyes were closed and she was working to steady her breath. Harry stood only a little ways away from her, one arm unknowingly supporting Malfoy. Both boys looked tired beyond reason, their hairs tousled and their faces devoid of any color. And behind them sat Ron, still holding Hermione in his arms. She had awaken fully now, though she clung to Ron with a child-like fear. Ron, himself, sat with her in a strong embrace; his head was bowed low and he was inhaling weakly. No one said a word.  
  
****  
  
Leo stood next to his sister, looking at everyone and feeling an immense sense of guilt. He really should have waited for a better day to do this ceremony. Everyone looked sick.  
  
He had remained standing in silence, his descent greeted by quiet gasps and coughs. He, himself, was unharmed in anyway. On the contrary, he was very much in an elation of joy. He had seen his brother, spoken to him, shared memories with him, exchanged smiles with him. It all happened slowly and quickly at the same time, neither one seeming to fit the moment that they had been in. But he was happy, and right now, that was all that mattered.  
  
But his happiness could have waited a little longer.  
  
Ron looked shamed, Hermione was in shock, Draco seemed drained, Harry had been ill, and his own sister was on the verge of passing out. He should have waited for a better day to do this. He should have waited until Harry had rested from his ordeal before he dragged him out into the middle of Enol. It was his temper that had done this to him, and he felt disgraceful. But only slightly.  
  
"Crysi," he said, looking up at her. She did not look down to him or open her eyes.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Go ahead. I'll take all of you back to the tower."  
  
Crystal sighed in relief. "Thank you," she breathed, and fell backward onto a bed of light that Leo and conjured. The boy made his way to Harry and Draco then, Crystal's unconscious weight hovering behind him.  
  
"You got sick from the rain," he said, reaching up and feeling Harry's forehead. The most he could do was nod in response. "And you've been drained of your energy," he said to Draco, shaking his head and checking his pulse. "I'll take you to the tower as well." He conjured two stretchers with a wave of his hand and helped both boys onto them. "I'd let you sleep on light as well," he explained, indicating his sister. "But a physical object would just feel better to you than floating on nothing." Harry only nodded before falling into a deep sleep.  
  
Leo then strode over to Ron and Hermione. "Sleep," he said, touching a cold finger to Hermione's burning face. She instantly went limp, her fingers releasing their grasp and her eyes going slack once more. With the help of Ron, Leo laid Hermione on a third stretcher. "Your turn," he then said, facing Ron and bringing up one more stretcher. To his surprise, the boy shook his weary red head.  
  
"I'll walk with you," he said, his voice almost gone now. He brushed off his clothes and ran a trembling hand through his hair. Leo stared up at him, unconvinced.  
  
"It's alright, Ronald Weasley. You'd like it better if you laid down and slept."  
  
"But I want to watch over Harry and Hermione," Ron protested. He glanced at them before pulling nervously at his collar. "I want to be able to protect them if something else happens."  
  
Leo smiled tiredly, impressed by such devotion. "I will take care of them. Sleep."  
  
"Okay," Ron answered abruptly, sleep already tugging at his eyes. He collapsed on the spot, causing Leo to direct the stretcher behind him so that he fell neatly onto it. With everyone trailing in a convoy, Leo made his way back to the tower.  
  
A/N: Late post once again. I'm sorry. Eternal thanks to all my faithful readers:  
  
epicyclical dan-rad Casey Silvia Dreaming One sniggler27 Silnar Emmi Apolla2 Adrielle*Silverleaf LuckyQH  
  
Thanks for sticking with me. My appreciation can only be described so far! =) I will do everything within my power to get the next chapter up by Christmas or else Harry Potter deny me as a fan!!! thunder and lightening Besides, the creative juices are flowing and I can't wait to dive back into 'Oracles'. Happy Holidays! Au revoir. 


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